Shadow Quest Book 2

Shadow Quest Chapter 19

You stop at the intersection to the upper quarters, resting on the red carpet.

You waver and slide and slip and bob into the dining chamber. It's unchanged - a long wood table laden with food. You see one setting surrounded by five plates stacked halfway to the ceiling.

Clearly, the duke learns quickly.

"Shadow! Good morning. Did you rest well?"

<I didn't sleep, your excellency.> You plant yourself in the chair and CONSUME the food in one fell swoop.

Mmm.

The duke dines quietly. The room is empty. It seems he usually eats alone.

<Do you have much family?>

"...I wouldn't have expected you to take an interest." The duke sips from his cup a moment. "An only child. My parents are passed. I've been delaying marriage, waiting for the right partner..." He sighs. "Nothing, as of yet."

<How old are you?>

"29. Still plenty of time."

<I suppose so.>

<I have a few questions for you...?>

The duke opens his palms. "Have at me. After this incident...I think I'd like to abdicate for a day, leave things to Thomas. Give myself time to process."

<I am curious about the nature of angels. I realize I do not exactly know what they are.>

"Angels," the duke says. "Well, they're humans. Mages, or great warriors, originally, chosen by Hyperion as his champions. All elementals 'blessed' some of their followers. The unique angelic magic - wings, and powerful Light strikes - comes from the remnants of his power, which, by all accounts, is as strong as they day on which they received it, even surviving Hyperion's own demise."

<It seems as though Auriel has lost her abilities.>

"Indeed." The duke nods slowly. "It's something that has never happened before. I don't know what to expect of her, though she seems...distraught." The duke looks at you pointedly. "There was fierce competition amongst angels for Hyperion's attention, for rank within his army. Competition which has continued for 700 years. Surely, she's made an enemy or two, stepped on a few heads on her way up. Something to use, perhaps."

<Any idea why it happened?>

The duke shrugs. "No. The only other non-magic space I've heard of is Nelmar, which is where Raijin, the Lightning elemental, and Hecate, the spirit elemental, had a fight. That one is permanent, but does not steal an angel's blessing permanently. This one has gone with the demon lord, but Auriel's magic has yet to return. I have no explanation."


<...another question. Have you heard of something called a Shel'Kath?>

"Shel'Kath..." The duke says the word slowly, trying it on his tongue. "Sounds demonic, but I'm unfamiliar. Why?"

<It involves my...quest, with Sir Flint. I would refer you to him for specifics. It is not my place to say.>

"I see."

<On that note, I have a mind to attempt a summoning ritual to gain information about the Shel'kath from a more...direct source. Can you tell me of anything I should know before I do so?>

"Be careful," the duke says immediately. "Extraordinarily careful. And do not believe for one moment that anything you summon lives on this plane for any reason but its own agenda. Demons are chaotic, fickle creatures."

<Thank you for the warning.>

The duke nods solemnly. "Of sigilized rituals themselves...I know they remove, somewhat, the many penalties of using a raw spell to summon a creature. But then, they are much more involved. Personally, I stay away from such magics. Demons corrupt, given time, given room to speak." The duke gestures toward you. "You might well be resistant to such eventualities, but I'd still not turn my back on one."

<Are there any limits to these circles?>

"Beyond reagents and time? Not that I know of. But each one burdens the soul...many mages have fallen from summoning too many creatures, warped into a living, mindless prisoner to serve as a magic shell to summon demons. Not an attractive fate."

<That woman that was with us on the airship, and in battle,> you begin. <The shadow mage, Ila. I...could not feel in her a soul. Was she a demon?>

The duke's face darkens.

"Not a demon. A slave. I had a suspicion, at first, but seeing Auriel order her about confirmed them."

<...a slave.> The idea...grinds inside of you. <The angels enslaved a shadow mage?>

"They need someone to do their dirty work," the duke says. "Who better?"

<...she seemed...physically unable to answer my questions, when I pressed her about it.>

"Naturally. Her soul has been separated from her body and is kept secreted inside the Ring City itself. She is bound by a strict list of commands to answer only to the angels. If she disobeys, she is met with pain intense enough to stop her disobeying, no matter how far she tries to run. And then there's the thread of imminent destruction should she try to escape her chains nonetheless."

<Disgusting,> you growl.

The duke rubs his chin. "My castle's wards alerted me that she's just left...no longer responsive to Auriel. Normally, she would gravitate toward the closest angel...failing that, return to headquarters. Auriel truly has fallen." The duke glances back at you. "It is rather disgusting, though, isn't it? The empire combs the land for shadow mages. It catches them young, and then either disposes of them, or separates their souls from their bodies and makes them slaves...in the name of peace and justice, of course."

<They do not know the meaning of the words.>

The duke grows quiet. "Kinship is a heavy burden."

<...what sort of blessings did other elemental bestow?>

The duke smiles. "You want to know more about the shadow. There are a few that survive...Ellendra Kalladar, the queen of the elves, was blessed by Geb, the Earth Lord. Though I rather suspect she's dead, now, after killing the shadow dragon. The Elven Isles have gone silent."

<Any others?>

"No. They were mostly caught in the final battle between Erebus and the other four elementals."

<Erebus fought the other four elementals alone?> you ask. <What of the others?>

"They had been defeated by then."

The duke leans back in his chair. "One by one, the elemental lords were destroyed. I have a sneaking suspicion that the Spirit power under Jacob's Field is related to Hecate, or one of her powerful underlings, sealed away. Leviathan, the Wave Lord, is gone, vanished with the four higher elementals. Geb still survives today, actually, intact...depending on your definition of intact. His is the saddest tale."

<...what happened to Geb?>

"Well, before the Elementomachy, two peoples were pledged to Geb," Vellik says. "The elves, and the dwarves. The dwarves were a race of the rock, masters of iron and magical machines. The elves were surface dwelling, like humans, but came to Geb through their affinity with the products of the soil - trees, animals, life.

"As such minor differences in beliefs go...they hated each other with a terrible passion. What records remain from so long ago tell of a civil war amongst Geb's followers, brutal, devastating, even before the elementals began to fight amongst themselves. Geb, divided between his children, simply withdrew.

"Then, of course, during the Elementomachy itself, he had twice as much ground to cover," the duke continued. "Aeolus annihilated the Dwarven Empire at Tarun Gakth. The remnant of their battle still stands...twisted, endless canyons. There hasn't been sighting of a dwarf since.

"When Geb was finally pinned down during the great battle in the southeast, Hyperion cursed him, and Aeolus trapped him in a giant cyclone. He's still there - raging mad, totally insane, stomping across the plain, buffeted by a tornado that has surrounded him since the war."

<...that's...awful.>

"Quite tragic," Vellik agrees. "From what I gather, Geb never wanted war. He was always defensive. Aeolus hated him because, naturally, everything sentient and magical lived on the ground. Xile was a sort of refuge in the air...but Geb was king of the ground we all call home."

For a moment, you're quiet. It's a lot to take in.

<...Erebus...what kind of allies did he have?>

"The Shadow Lord," the duke murmurs. "Last to join the war. Arguably, the most powerful. Only Hyperion could stand against him for long."

<He was strongest?>

"What do you see at night, Shadow?" the duke asks. "Tiny pinpricks of light in a vast darkness so huge that is might as well be endless. The sun brings us light during the day...but it's just a ball of fire, fighting against the dark. Fires bring light, but their flickering creates huge, warped shadows. Wind is too ethereal...it doesn't move the shadow. Even lightning..." the duke rubs his chain, at the end of which hangs a small key. "...lightning blasts back the shadow, but for an instant. And then, your allies - consider them. Spirits dwell in shadows. The deep places of the earth and ocean harbor the shadow. The world is born of elements placed against a great, endless background - a blank slate of Darkness." The duke looks at you. "Of course it's the strongest. Not strong enough to beat all combined, otherwise we wouldn't exist as we do, you see. But strong."

You feel rather...pleased.

"Blessings, though. The few servants of Erebus that existed could move their own shadows and control others. They commanded powerful dark magics, often using illusions of sound and shadow. The greatest of these - unnamed in the histories - could even cancel magic itself. That was something that even Erebus was never capable. Odd, that."

<About Jacob's Field,> you say. <I believe the Kanians there are attempting to breech the seal on that source of power.>

"...disturbing news. Retaking firm control of the river is already a priority. Not to worry, though," the duke says. "My governor at Detson hasn't been idle. The rest of Kelvere's forces are moving south as we speak."

<Actually, I doubt they'll breach it. I found a remote, underground passage into the seal.>

The duke is taken aback. "Did you, now?"

<I did. The seal itself requires four keys - keys I aim to obtain.> You raise the Sun-Moon key from your belt pocket. <And one of which I already have.> You replace it, and then point at his key. <And one of which I suspect you possess.>

The duke hesitates a moment, then lifts the chain from up around his neck. "...a family heirloom. It holds a mote of lightning, but the enchantment is subtle. Good for an emergency."

You take the key in your hands.

It feels...
...the same. The same as the one you own, the same as that door...ancient. Solid. Existent.

<This is it,> you say confidently. <This is one of the keys.>

The duke raises a hand, and you give it back. He loops it around his neck. "Well, I'll keep even closer watch on it. But are you sure you want to open that seal? I've learned...the hard way...things like that are not to be trifled with. Besides." The duke shrugs. "Let's assume a most chaotic-case scenario. The elemental lords are returning." He shakes his head. "My position isn't quite ready. It's too soon."

<I have another question,> you say. <When I explored your castle, I sensed something below the dungeons. A magical something. I'm greatly curious.>

"...well, at least you couldn't access it," the duke says. "That gives me some small confidence." He folds his fingers across the table, and closes his eyes for a long moment. "...we are alone. Good." He opens his eyes. "Research is under my castle, shadow. Dwarven technology uncovered from Tarun Gakth. If we pivot toward the empire, they will pivot toward us. We need an edge."

<What kind of technology?>


"It was the dwarves that pioneered airships," the duke says, "and their destruction is what keeps us from making any more. Aeolus percieved it a great insult that a people of the earth would try to raise themselves into the skies...one of many logs on the fire of the Elementomachy," the duke says. "If we could rediscover that - well. That would be more than an edge." He shrugs again. "At the moment, the Engineering Guild holds a monopoly on the maintenance of airships - which is the only knowledge that was left by the furtive dwarves following their destruction. And the Guild is headquartered in Heavensgate. As long as Kelvere toes the line and contributes men to the frontier to fight the Black Lady, our airships stay well-maintained. Breaking that monopoly will be key, going forward."

<I see.> You nod. <What of your campaign? What are your next moves?"

"We retake the river. I want to push back to Westport before winter...but we might not make it. The port has been totally leveled, and Kan-Abar's fleets are harrying Isle Imil, which is cutting off their support. It's going to be a long war, Shadow."

<I may have an insight regarding dynamos.>

The duke sits up at that. "Do tell."

<After exploring your airship, before the angels arrived, I tried to make a small one,> you explain. <Spinning seemed to help keep my shadows stable. But it fell apart without a constant input. And even then, it was just a tiny thing.>

The duke nods. "Yes. The momentum is key. We discovered something incredible in our experiments - small, but incredible. You see, spinning objects actually maintain their forward momentum better than objects that are not spinning. If you spin something, then throw it, it will fly straighter, longer. We've felt this principle is key to the dynamo. They all spin. But the power source..." He taps a finger on the table. "Well. A good confirmation of what we heavily suspected. Thank you."

<In regards to the spirit underneath Jacobs Field...a friend seemed to acknowledge it as a spirit, and referred to it as the 'nice lady'.>

"That would be the young girl you mentioned?"

<Yes. The spirit itself also spoke to me...called out for help.>

"I see," the duke says. "...I will ask my mages to pursue this. In the meantime, let's both keep alert for the last two keys."

<And about myself,> you say. <I have the ability to use more than one element. Is that common among mages?>

"Usually, a mage has one dominating element that rules their soul, along with one, perhaps two, and rarely, all three other aligned elements. It's almost unheard of to have both a lesser and greater element together, though. The two groups don't mix. I myself am Lightning...with just a touch of Wind." The duke continues to gesture as he speaks. "When the elemental lords forged their alliances, the nature of the world itself changed to match their will. They made pacts with one another, and could use a varying amount of magics. Being what you are, I'm unsurprised you can access other realms of magic, especially Spirit. It would be odd if you could not."

<I see.> You nod. <That settles quite a few matters for me. I appreciate your time, your excellency. I fear I have too much ignorance to sponge away.>

"As do we all, Shadow."

<Now...one final thing. It's been plaguing me all night, actually.>

The duke purses his lips curiously. "After all this, I can't imagine what it might be."

<I'm sure you're aware that Auriel and Flint imbibed much, much to ignorance potion last night.>

"I think everyone in Evinbrook is aware that the demonslayer bumbled home with the angel herself and...well, your current cover is that you're my summoned familiar. Not demonic, but of the shadow element."

<Indeed. Everyone expected the same thing I did, then.>

The duke slowly raises an eyebrow. "I'm not above gossip. Go on."

<They both wanted to copulate. I tried to help,> you admit, <but I feel I did more harm than good. Could you explain the nuance human mating rituals? I'm suspecting I was too blunt.>

The duke smirks, then looks past your shoulder. "Why don't you ask Sir Flint? I'm sure he'd be happy to explain."

<No, he was most upset with me this morning. I've concluded that the ignorance potion itself made them both willing to acts they'd otherwise have the sense to avoid...I was presumptuous in assuming they wanted to mate, even if they did rail on about it.> You chortle slightly. <Sir Flint is most talkative when he has imbibed 'beer'. He asked me to tell him to shut up, which I did, four separate times. Each time he'd begin, it was on the subject of the unconscious angel I was carrying. I think they were rather lewd comments, by your standards, but I'm still working it all out. Too many euphemisms.>

"Yes, those can be problematic," the duke agrees cheerfully. "So, what sort of euphemisms did the good knight use? Perhaps I can - "

"Please, no!" Flint's voice shouts.

The duke grins. "Oh, I like to air these kinds of things in the open. So, Shadow, what did Flint say about the drunken angel slung over your shoulder?"

Flint runs into the room. He puts his hands on your form and leans in close. "...please...spare me the humiliation. If you're any kind of friend."

You glance at him, then at the door. Auriel is standing there, half-hidden by the door frame. She's blushed even redder than Flint was this morning.

"Come now," the duke says. "We're all friends here!"

You feel as though a little demon is dancing inside of you, prodding you on.

You slowly turn to look at Auriel. <I don't suppose you'd like to hear them?>

Auriel's lips shrivel like a dried prune, yet her face is similar in color to a ripe strawberry.

You glance at Flint and quietly speak so that only he can hear. <You'll teach me all their meanings, later. For that, I will hold your silence.> You look at the duke. <I do apologize, your excellency, but the good knight has invoked my friendship.>

Flint swallows, and nods. He mechanically lurches to the other side of the table and sits in his chair opposite you. He doesn't reach for any food. He seems a bit shellshocked.

Auriel slowly glides over. Her blush fades to a slight pink, but that doesn't stop her from being the picture of elegance. She lowers herself into the chair on the other end of the table, opposite the duke.

You look at Auriel. <I'd be happy to list them for Flint and yourself and private.>

"...just..." Auriel sighs, and says nothing.

You feel a giddy sense of power at silencing her with words along.

"My hopes, dashed," the duke says. He seems exceedingly pleased with himself. "Ah well."

<Ignorance potions,> you grumble. <You both spoke so much and yet said so little. Avoid them.>

Flint puts a hand on his face. He forks some food onto his plate. "...pasta, your excellency?"

"I enjoy pasta for breakfast," Vellik says. "Every great leader has an eccentricity or two."

"Great leader, hmm?" Auriel murmurs. She spoons some of the buffet onto her own plate, then throws you a hard glare. "I didn't realize you'd eat at the table, Shadow. I thought you'd be in the corner, licking water from a bowl."

Flint freezes into that block-of-marble state he seems to take when he has no idea how to react. The duke smiles in a way that says -the show is not over-.

<What were those euphemisms again?>

"I don't believe you mentioned them," the duke says innocently.

<Ah, how could I forget. Let me - >

Flint raises his palms plaintiff. "Shadow..."

<I tried, Flint. I really did.> You glance at the angel, who has visibly retreated into her chair. <Unless...>

"...unless what?" Flint asks.

<Have the good lady accompany us,> you say. <And she can explain it all at a later date. As you tell us both.>

The duke flops back. "How anticlimactic. Do I get to witness none of the fun?"

"What if I don't like that idea?" Auriel hisses.

You heave a forlorn sigh. <You're right, of course. How could I have been so presumptuous? Might as well get it all in the open and - >

"Stop!" Auriel shouts. She slams a hand to the tablet. "...I will not...have the Duke Vellik...hear - hear this."

"It's not as if I'll tell everyone I meet at every diplomatic meeting for the next year," the duke says. "I'm sure plenty will be curious about the - exploits - of the demon slayer."

"I am NOT and exploit!"

<The ball's in your court, Auriel,> you say.

"I might have lost some power," Auriel said, "but none else. You -will- address me as highest."

<I don't think a fallen angel is very high.>

Auriel grits her teeth. Flint looks panicked, but says nothing. The duke tenses slightly.

You begin to shift.

Slowly, you take on a solid, more humanoid form. Wings grow from your back, textured with layers of feathers. Your Mimic of an angel sits in the chair, staring at Auriel.

"Why would I call you Highest when you're a shadow of your former self?" you say aloud.

"...I - you...stop that." Auriel's voice breaks. "Let that illusion drop! This instant!"

You relax, and are again just a misty, formless shadow.

<I am tired of you,> you begin. <Very tired. I am tired of being hunted. I am tired of being told I am evil. I am tired of being called monstrous because of what I am, least of all by someone that knowingly condones isolating the soul from a mage to turn them into a slave. It must be difficult to eat your pasta without Ila at your beck and call, threatened to pain she cannot bear should she disobey your most casual request. Is that the righteousness of angels I hear of? Is that one of the acts that beget your title of Highest?"

"...you know not of what you speak," Auriel retorts. "You did not fight in the elementomachy, shadow. You did not see the undead horde raised by Hecate. You did not see Geb destroy the Archon Highlands. Peace is best served by - "

<PEACE?!> You shout. Your voice fills the room. Your aura flares like black fire. <WHAT PEACE? WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF PEACE?! YOU WHO DOES NOTHING BUT ATTACK, WHO REFUSES TO LISTEN TO REASON, WHO LAYS THE BLAME OF SINS AND WARS CENTURIES PAST AT MY FEET?! WHO KNOWS NOTHING OF ME, AND WHAT I AM, AND WHAT I HAVE DONE?!> You slowly sit back into your chair, and a darkness that had fallen over the room lifts. <...your hypocrisy sickens me, -Highest-. I have done nothing to deserve your anger, or hate. Apparently, because I am shadow, I must die. And that is all there is to your logic. I refuse to accept such single-minded idiocy. There is no peace to be had there - only war, with all that deign to disagree.> You lean away. <I will spare you your precious pride, if only for Flint's sake.

<There is no justice in your words,> you say. <Only conflict. I believe you have confused justice with conflict. I believe you and the rest of your angels continue to fight a war that has long since ended. I believe that you are causing a world problems by keeping the elements one sided. Because otherwise...I do not think I would be here.>

You stand and walk to her side. She grows more and more stiff as you approach. You feel her soul start to swim with magic, but she holds it tight.

<You helped me defeat the demon lord, and you protected my ally, and my friend, Sir Flint,> you say. <For that, you have my thanks, as little value it probably holds to you. I mean you no harm, Highest. I want no part of conflict with angels. I merely want to be left...in peace. Is that too much to ask? Tell me why.>

"...we kill the shadow to prevent the shadow rising once more," she says. "The world was once cast in darkness. Even...if we take as true that you are not necessarily bad...you are the sacrifice that must be made to protect the rest of the world." She seems to find her momentum, and her voice firms. "Would you truly want to live if you are the source of chaos that plagues everyone you know? If your own life, for living, makes Sir Flint's worse?"

<...I would find a way to prevent such a thing,> you say. <Though I will note not to expect help from you and yours. Whatever your destination, I wish you...peace.>

And with that, you walk from the room. <Flint. I shall await you near the stables. Joey will be meeting us.> You glance back at him. <If you'll still have me, that is. If not...I go alone. Either way, count me as your friend, now, and always.>

You head to the stables.

Joey is already there. He's wearing thick leather, and he's standing outside, holding the bridles of two horses. You slip over to him and sit. The horses ignore you. The people nearby whisper and scatter quickly.

A monster, then.

Maybe she's right. Maybe they're all right. You're not like them. You have no sex. You have no constant form. You have no memory, no origin, no family, parents, nothing. You are vapor. A flicker under a torch. Half-there, half-not. How can something so inconsistent preach justice?

A few minutes pass.

"Hey, Shadow?" Joey asks eventually.

<...yes, Joey?>

"Where's Flint?"

<...coming.>

"Oh. Ok." Joey scuffs a boot on the grass. "...you know...I thought about what you said."

<Hmm?>

"You know, about...monsters, and stuff," Joey said. "You know, you're right. You're not a monster. You've never been a monster at all. You look it, I guess...but who knows what a monster looks like, right? You aren't a monster...you're just different. Not a monster, not a human. Something different. Maybe similar, some ways. But something else."

<...I am...something else...>

Footsteps sound over the grass. You turn. Flint is headed your way. He walks over to Joey. "Did you oil the armor, and weapons, like I told you?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Time to learn something useful." Flint shows Joey how to put the armor on. Joey awkwardly manages to hinder more than help, but eventually, Flint is armored as usual, though with his new sunburst breastplate. Joey has a few pieces of his own - guards for his wrists, knuckles, shoulders, and other joints and vulnerable spots.

Flint grins at you. "So...did you really think I wasn't coming?"

<...a small chance.>

"Have a little faith."

<Faith?> you say. <It's not my strong suit.>

Flint glances at you, then past you. "Think again, Shadow. Think again."

A person brushes past you. You hardly recognize Auriel, fully clad in her armor. She moves into the stables, and comes out with a large gelding. She clicks her teeth, and the horse responds to her command. She rides it over to Flint.

"It's been some time, but...it comes back quick, apparently."

<What are you doing here?>

Auriel stares at you. "As if I'm going to let Sir Flint, forth in line to the Seat at Dobshire, ride alone with a young boy and a sentient shadow in search of the solution to a demonic parasite wrapped around his soul."

<You told her?>

Flint shrugs. "...she asked."

You look at Auriel. <The Ring City isn't going to miss an angel? What is this?>

"...the duke promised to relay a message for me, and Ila is on her way back as we speak, besides. They'll soon learn everything."

<...and you won't be there to clarify.>

"Enough. I'm coming with you. Get used to it."

<That, -Highest-, will be difficult. But I suppose I can try.>

"At Sir Flint's request, I will also try to subsist alongside a monster."

You feel a...grin. A smile spreads up your body. <I am not a monster. But I am not human, either. I am something else. But call me what you will. Highest.>

The party rides towards Jacob's Field...

You're more than halfway to Jacob's Field by the time the sun sets. Flint spies a large overhang near the river, and suggests you make camp there for the night. Auriel agrees.

<I'll keep watch,> you say. <You get rest.>

"...yes, I think I'll keep watch," Auriel says. "You...do whatever it is you do to sleep."

<I don't sleep,> you say. <Maybe I should just watch -you- all night. Again.>

"Can we not fight?" Flint asks.

Auriel cuts Flint with a look, then sits with her legs folded, back to the overhang. She rests her hands on her knees and closes her eyes. "...as I said, I will keep watch. Take your rest."

"I won't have you up the entire night," Flint says.

Auriel opens one eye. "I am not glass," she says. "Take your rest."

Flint sighs, then begins to unpack the bedrolls from the saddles. Joey walks off to water the horses.

Eventually, the two of them are asleep. Auriel sits, motionless, but you're sure she's perfectly alert. You take note of her new sword - a one-handed blade. She also has a fat buckler strapped to her back.


You move toward Auriel, and speak so as not to disturb Flint and Joey.

<You trusted me in your shadow at the battle. There were more than enough times that I could have had a little snack and had one less person in this world that wanted me dead. Do you not trust me to keep watch, or do you just think me unobservant?>

"Take a good guess."

<...you said...I was not at the Elementomachy. What is it that makes you hate me so?>

She opens her eyes. "Was there something about me that said I felt like a conversation? Because all to the contrary."

<If we are going to work together...in some minor capacity...>

Auriel is still. She glances past you, then back at you. She looks down in her lap.

<...what? I believe my statement has merit.>

"...you said...Flint..." A blush starts to creep up her neck. "...he said certain, ah, things, about me...while...intoxicated. I was curious as to what they were."

<Then ask him.>

"...I couldn't bear to."

<Why not?>

Auriel rubs the bridge of her nose. "You have no tact. You don't even know what tact is."

<I know what tact is. Tact is the refusal to communicate to other people things that bother you or that they find bothersome. What fool came up with such a useless idea is beyond me.>

"...well. My trade stands," Auriel says.

<Why do you want to know?>

"...that's not important."

<Alright,> you say. <He asked me if I had ever seen the ruevids in bloom around Dobshire. Obviously, being so intoxicated, he'd forgotten I'd never been to Dobshire...> You pause. <To the point. He said you were more beautiful then all of them put together.>

"...oh."

<Now. Your turn.>

"...what do you want to know, exactly?"

<Why do you hate me?>

"...I don't...hate you," she said. "...it was...a lifetime ago, Shadow. I was just a village girl...I knew nothing about the world. And the Black Hand - those that pledged themselves to Erebus - came and destroyed my entire town. I was allowed to live. After a 2 year imprisonment."

<And so you hate the shadow.>

"...there's more to it than that."

<Then please, continue.>

"...conversation with you is like exchanging words with a brick." She folds her arms. "It's -your- turn."

<He also said that he loved to climb on the ruevids when he was a child, and that he was certain he'd enjoy climbing on you even more.>

Auriel promptly turns the color of an eggplant.

...why do you find yourself comparing their faces to fruits and vegetables?

<Your turn.>

"...they...used me. I escaped...I was broken, then," she says. Her eyes fade away. Her voice is small. "...never again." She shakes herself. "...I found the Dawnflight. Hyperion's army. And I never looked back. Revenge."

<And that one thought carries you through to this day?>

"...no. But it's your turn."

You shift your form into a large stone block.

"...what are you doing?"

<You said conversation with me was - >

"...like a brick." Auriel sighs. "And you have a terrible sense of humor. What's next, birds?"

<Flint said that you were as strong and clear as a ray of light in the dark.>

"...sweet," she murmurs.

<And that you had physical endowments equally blessed by Hyperion. He specifically cited your 'tits' several times.>

Auriel swallows hard, but says nothing.

<Your turn.>

"This has got to be the strangest conversation I have ever had. And I have lived a very long time."

<Stop stalling.>

"...do you know how many liches I've seen, how many demons I've slayed? I fought against Hecate's undead army, smashed down skeletons that pieced themselves back together over and over. I fought against the Black Lady, and she didn't hesitate to turn many of her own into vampires, to raise an entire army of demons nearly single handedly. I fought in every war between the empire and Archon - and always, Archon turned to Shadow and Spirit, to darker magics that should not be touched. They tried to set a disease upon all the world's forests - and it worked. The Spirit Blight. If not for Sandalphon's work in turning it back, it would have gone from being a disaster that was eventually mitigated into something that destroyed the way of life for the majority of the world.

"Do you know why the Black Hand raised my village?" she asked. "Because Erebus wouldn't acknowledge them. He rarely communicated with mortals. So they did outrageous, terrible, awful things to try to get his attention. Like a cult of rampaging, insane children."

Auriel cocks her head at you. "How should I feel, Shadow?" she asks. "One good bit of darkness floats a long, and then, oh, up and everything's alright? All is forgiven?"

<When will it be enough?> you ask. <What keeps you fighting?>

"...your turn."

<Flint said he liked your hair. He said it was as bright and fair as the full moon's shine.>

"...he said that drunk?"

You nod. <He also wondered aloud if you'd ever masturbated using your magic.>

Auriel reels back. She blinks, gaping. Her mouth opens and closes without sound.

<There's no such thing as guilt by association,> you say.

"...what keeps me fighting." She sits upright. "Sometimes...I walk about in Heavensgate. To see the people. They...crowd me. Adore me. I like to play with the children..." She turns her face away. "...to protect them, Shadow. That's what keeps me going."

<And I must die, so they might live.>

"That is correct."

<Do you find that fair?>

"Fair?" she asks. "I never claimed it was fair. It simply is. And if I had to trade your life for theirs...I'd do it. It's as simple as that. And since that's the way the world is, I'll be the one to do it. They deserve more than that...but it is all I can give."

<I see.> You stare at her. <Put another way...you have merely decided you will become a monster yourself to spare them greater monsters.>

Auriel says nothing.

<Have you considered there might be alternative solutions?>

"...alternatives?" Auriel says. "I've considered alternatives for -seven centuries-, Shadow. I wouldn't do this if I didn't believe it was right with every fiber of my being."

<Then it is left to me to find the path you have missed.>

"Good luck with that. But you won't succeed."

<We shall see what happens first,> you say. <Whether I succeed, or your friends hunt me down. In the meantime...I will be myself, and see what the world makes of it.>

"...fair enough."

<You said I cannot expect you to forgive me, just like that,> you begin. <But I wonder. What is it that I have done that needs forgiveness?>

"How about consuming an angel, for starters?"

<He forced me into it. I'm not sure if you noticed in your time with him, but Raziel was completely insane.>

"Passionate in his duty. Bloodthirsty, it's true. But some of us got that way after decades of the stuff. You become what you do. If you knew something other than the end of his blade, you might think differently of him."

<It sounds like you are scrambling for justifications.>

"I made a statement. I wasn't scrambling for anything."

<It matters not. In then end, I was merely defending myself from immediate and reactive prejudice.> You glance at her. <You said those trying to get Erebus's attention were at fault. It sounds that in this instance, mankind was evil, not the shadow. You would hold Erebus responsible for their actions?>

"He could have - should have - stopped them. It would have been finished with but a command from him. His inaction let people die. He's no less guilty than they are."

<If Erebus was truly at fault,> you say, <I would have helped stopped him or his self-proclaimed underlings myself, no matter what element they were. Element, I find, matters little in determining what is good, and what is evil. It is on this point we disagree.>

"It's easy to say that, 700 years after the fact," Auriel says. "Actions speak louder than words."

<That, we agree on.>

You turn, and glide toward the other end of camp, keeping a close watch on the night.

Shadow Quest Chapter 20

The dawn slowly comes without your camp being disturbed. You do a few laps around the surrounding plains, but find little other than a nest of rabbits. You kill two and drag them back to the camp.

Flint and Joey seemed pleased by your find. If Auriel is tired for having spent the night awake, she doesn't show it.

After the three of them eat, they mount up and trot up along the river, staying away from the road farther inland. With a war on, that's an invitation to be set upon by bandits, or worse.

You jog along the horses at an easy pace. Your 'legs' waver and stretch in the sunlight. Even you think you look a bit odd - a shadowy nothing on top of stretching stilts. But it gets the job done.

You shorten your stride and go even with Auriel. <What has Flint told you about who we're looking for?>

"...a young girl, with Spirit magic. And a local specialist to whom you both entrusted her, an alchemist of little note."

<...and what is your opinion on Abigail?>

"She needs to be taken to the empire so her magic can be sealed. Barring that, she'd be separated from her soul, but I think you made your opinion clear on that option."

<What if I like neither option?>

"Then we have a new problem. I'm not about to let a talented spirit mage raise an undead army out in the wilderness."

<Abigail would do nothing of the sort. She's nine years old.>

The angel gives you a hard look. "Donovan already told me she could commune with latent spirits and accidentally summoned an undead creature. That young...it's unusual."

You stare back at the angel. <Let me make something clear,> you say. <I am tolerating your presence, not the other way around. If you try to harm her - by which I mean my OWN definition of harm, not yours - there will be dire consequences involving your immediate health.>

Auriel stares you down for a good while, then eventually sets herself straight on her horse. "You don't get it, shadow. Do you think I enjoy persecuting a girl that isn't old enough to appreciate her position? Do you think I enjoy persecuting you, even? I can face facts. You've done good. You've helped Donovan, and the people of Jacob's Field. You fought the Kanians, and killed the demon lord." She glances back. "That's not the point at all. Even if you yourself are good, your existence creates shadow magic, creates physical unbalances. The elementomachy was a combination of fiction between peoples and too much magic. One way or another, that has to be dealt with, and the safest, surest, and least cruel way is to simply remove the source of instabilities. Let's say I can trust you. I can't trust the next lich, who'd use your power for his own ends. Yi Fang proves that in Archon every single day. The only reason he hasn't attacked the empire is because we face a greater threat in the Black Lady, yet still his schemes try to poison us from the inside. So my apologies if I seem a skeptic to your liberal attitudes - I've only the evidence of seven centuries riding behind my words."

You fall silent for a time. This woman believes what she says with a conviction wrapped in the same iron she wears, and she's fought for those ideals for much longer than you've been around. It might be impossible to talk her out of them.

But if you could...if SHE could change...

An experiment, then. Like she said, actions speak louder than words.

And if she still doesn't change...

...you're always hungry.

<Have you heard of a person called Adavan?>

Auriel glances at you sharply. "...where did you hear that name?"

<That's irrelevant. Tell me why you ask, and what you know.>

"I ask because that is the name of one of Hecate's greatest generals. He led a legion of undead. I fought against him many times, though I know not what became of him." She sighs, glances at Flint, then back to you. "As we're trapped together, for the time being...I'm curious as to where that question came from. I'd like to know."

<What would you do if you found out what happened to him?>

Auriel pauses, then shrugs. "...an old bit of the past, settled, I suppose. It's not like he's still kicking. I doubt he survived the fight when the four greater elementals finally pinned Hecate down."

<A moment.> You leave her looking curious as you sidle alongside Flint. You speak so only he can hear. <...have you been listening?>

"I got the gist," Flint said. "Can you try to drop the shadow against light discussion? That's the kind of thinking that caused the Elementomachy. We need to put aside differences and focus on how - "

<That's all well and good,> you say, <but what happens when she sees Adavan, still alive, a lich?>

"...I hadn't thought out that far," Flint mutters.

<I'm going to tell her.>

"I don't think that's a - "

<Good idea? Obviously not, if you lied to her about it. But what happens when we find them and Abigail is put in danger because Auriel reacts...badly?>

Flint swallows. He licks his lips, then nods. "...let me do it." He clicks his heels, and trots his horse over toward Auriel. You follow. Joey watches the comings-and-goings curiously, but doesn't say anything.

"Highest, there's..."

"Donovan. For the last time. Auriel."

"Ah...Auriel."

She smiles. "Yes, Donovan?"

"About the alchemist with Abigail...he's...Shadow brought him up with you. His name is Adavan. He'd been sealed under the forest near Jacob's Field for some time."

"...you...let one of Hecate's generals...alone...with another budding spirit mage..." Auriel seems stunned. "Donovan. There is optimism...and then there is stupidity." She grips her reigns so tight the leather squeaks. "...what have you done?"

Flint waves his hands rapidly. "It just turned out that way! I had three thousand Kanians to deal with!"

<I was the one that made that decision,> you say.

"...then you're even more naive than he is," the angel says to you. "Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I was informed of the trail he'd left us. He'll lead us, alright. Right into the wilderness, then abandon us to our own devices. You're both mad." She stares at you. "You entrusted an innocent little girl to -a lich-. With the time and preparation you've given him, she could be a complete slave by now."

"...no," Flint says. "I don't think he'd do that. Despite his...history...Shadow stopped us from fighting. We came to an understanding."

"And then you promptly turned your backs on him. Hyperion help us."

<If he has done anything, there will be nothing left of him when I am finished.>

"Little good that will do the girl!" Auriel shouts. "For spirits' sake, you're both incorrigible!"

<And yet here you are, riding along side us with the whole rest of the world to get back to in the exact opposite direction,> you say. <In any case, we need Adavan's expertise in dealing with Flint's parasite. Unless you know something about it, and you haven't told us. Because at this rate, it could very well kill him.>

"...I haven't even sensed it," she says.

<Then we don't have a choice. I can see it, but no one else. No one. And I believe following the trail back to its source is too dangerous without guidance.>

"We're going to hell in a handbasket." Auriel clicks her heels, spurring her horse a bid faster. "I only hope I'm strong enough to save you from your stupidity, Donovan."

Flint sighs, and you continue onward.

<Actually, there was a demon that could see it,> you say.

"...you exhaust me," Auriel says. "First a lich...and not just any lich. And now, demons? Are you insane?"

<I ignored it,> you say. <It spontaneously decided to follow me, and fight alongside me. For what purpose, I don't know. I was toying with destroying it. In any case, it related that it could see Flint's parasite. I have no pretense to ally myself with demons, but under controlled conditions, perhaps a summoning might be worthwhile.>

"...a last resort," Auriel says.

<On a side note - >

"Enough!" Auriel said. "Do you ever shut up? Talk, talk, more talk! I thought shadows were quiet!"

<Does it bother you to confront and be shaken in matters you had long thought black and white?>

"Shut up!"

<Adavan told me a story much like yours,> you say. <Amazingly similar to yours, in fact. Family and friends butchered by the light, non-combatants slaughtered for their affinity with the Spirit or Shadow. Many years of pain and betrayal. Yours is not a unique case, Angel. Have you considered that those you fought felt the same about you as you do about them? I wonder, if they had won, would the world be as it is now, but flipped, with Light mages hunted or made slaves? It wouldn't make the Shadow right. They'd be just as wrong as you are now.

<I suppose 'ifs' and 'buts' are only good for discussion,> you say. <But it was the feelings he related that made me trust him. Even then, they were written plain on his face, as yours are written on yours. Strange, though - I find that an angel has most in common with a lich.>

You fall silent. Auriel remains unresponsive. Her face is clenched tight.

"You've said enough, Shadow," Flint says. "When a lady asks something of you...you should respect it."

<I see. Then silence, until the angel requests otherwise.>

"Don't hold your breath," Auriel mutters.

<I don't have to breathe.>

An ugly look crawls over Auriel's face, but she lets it drop at that.

You arrive a half-mile outside Jacob's Field.

The fortress on the hill is still a hive of activity...you can see the giant earth golem still patrolling the town. You wonder if what you did had any effects.

"Where do we pick up the trail?" Auriel asks.

<The forest on the other side of the village.>

"In that case, we're probably better off avoiding this rat's nest altogether and going around."

Flint nods to her.

<...I might be able to gather some useful information,> you say. <I could meet you on the other side.>

"No," Auriel says. "I want you where I can see you."

<It was only a suggestion,> you say. <Avoiding any potential of conflict is also wise.>

Auriel nods, then clicks her heels. "Press your aura low, Donovan."

"Naturally."

Your group travels around the village, giving it a wide berth. You eventually reach the forest, then arrive at the clearing where you met with Adavan that last time.

...where you saw Abigail for the last time.

It's been too long.

You wonder what it is about her that draws you to her. She's just another human...and yet...pure. Much to grow, much to learn...

Perhaps you see something of yourself in her.

"Shadow?" Auriel asks. "Is there a trail here, or not?"

<...it should be here.> You slink to the center of the clearing and press the ground. The spirit sigil flares. The triangle in its center rotates...and points directly northeast. <Our heading, I'd assume.>

"Then we'd best be off."

It's been five days since you started traveling, and it's been rather uneventful. Flint is noting your progress on a map. You've skirted the towns and villages you've come across the river, not wanting to draw much attention. You're now only half a day out from Detson.

<Flint, something I've been meaning to ask you.>

Flint stops rooting in his bag for his tobacco and looks at you. "Yes?"

<What are tits?>

Flint quickly glances around the spot at the river at which you'd made camp to take a midday break and water the horses. Auriel is some distance away, splashing water on her face. He leans close. "...a woman's chest...ah...has, ah...two breasts."

<I know that.>

"Tits are...those. Slang. It's...rather lewd."

<I find it odd that some words are lewd and some are not, despite the fact they have the same meaning. I suppose that's just humans.>

Flint shrugs. "I guess. You're the only outside perspective I've got." He nods. "Thanks for keeping quiet, the past few days. I think..." Flint glances at Auriel again, then back to you. "I think losing her powers hit her hard. And I think she's giving more thought to what you say than you realize. I get that feeling when I speak with her. I'm glad for it."

<...hmm. Actions speak louder than words.>

"I guess."

"What are you two mumbling about?" Auriel asks. She's walking toward you.

<Tits and outside perspective.>

Auriel flushes slightly, then shakes her head. "And you can stop right there."

In short order, your companions mount up once again.

The Tairns has noticeably shrunk by the time you reach Detson, with creeks and streams and other tributaries slowly subtracted on your way north. Vessels are quite absent from it...with the war on, you suppose that makes sense.

Detson looms ahead of you, nestled high in the upper foothills of the Steelback mountains. The mining city is like a nest of dark towers. You can see one of the duke's three remaining airships floating in the air above the towers, patrolling a lazy circle.

You reach the next marker several miles from the city, on the road. It points you northeast...

"Well," Flint says. "I'd like a comfy bed, but we don't know how much ground we've made up, and we were already several days behind. We should probably keep moving."

"No argument," Auriel says.

Joey doesn't say anything. He's been looking very droopy, lately. After the first night, Flint has been drilling him in swordplay with sticks every single day before they fall to sleep.

<Indeed. Let us continue.>

Another two days pass...

...and you arrive at the edge of Tarun Gakth.

The sheer plateau of the unnatural rock rises from the plain like the stratified bones of the earth.

"Can you sense the next sigil?" Auriel asks. "They probably just went around the edge."

<...yes. Here.> You press into the ground. Adavan's spell reacts to your presence...

The triangle turns, rotates, and points directly into the canyons of Tarun Gakth.

Silence.

"...no," Auriel says. "This is it. This is the part where he throws us off on a wild goose chase. We go around."

<If you're wrong?>

"I won't be, if he truly is the man...or the thing, I should say...that I remember."

Flint looks uncertain. "I don't know what to think. Tarun Gakth is not...a friendly place."

Auriel sighs. "It's obvious, Donovan. Plain as day. He's either running into the Great Forest, or straight to the Black Lady."

<He doesn't know about the Black Lady,> you say. <He just woke up from a 7-century nap.>

"Unless he can dreamwalk, in which case, he absolutely knows."

<You forget that I could easily fly over it,> you say. <I could carry you.>

"And the horses?"

<...the horses, we might have to leave behind. I can carry the saddlebags.>

Auriel folds her arms. "What happens when you inevitably get tired and we're forced to land inside that place? You've no idea what's in there, do you?"

<No.>

"Wild orc clans. Wyrms that burrow through the earth. Mad machines of the dwarves, running amok. Criminals and outcasts and exiles from every nation seeking refuge. And the place is littered with openings into the Timorian Deep, which is even worse. The ability to fly would just make you exposed. We'd be infinitely safer on foot - if you can call it safe. Besides, I'm not about to trust you with me 1000 feet in the air, even if I could slow the fall."

"...she's right, Shadow," Flint says. "Flying over it is a bad idea. Maybe if it was you alone, but not with all of us."

<I can fly fast,> you say. <Danger would not have a chance to catch us.>

"Genius," Auriel says. "And then we miss all the sigils, just as everyone else misses us."


<Then we have no choice but to go on foot.>

"I just finished explaining that - "

<I heard your opinion,> you say. <I am going into the canyons. If I have company, I suggest we camp for the night and then go on in the morning; otherwise, I leave immediately. Sir Flint?>

"...alright."

"Donovan, please, you can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious," Flint says. He turns to Auriel. "And you should be too."

"I'm more serious than this naive piece of black fluff we're trailing around."

"That's enough!" Flint shouts.

Auriel looks taken aback. "...what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Flint says. "What's wrong is that you're trapped in thinking that caused a war so great it made THAT!" Flint jabs a gauntleted finger at the cliffs of Tarun Gakth.

"Donovan, I'm beginning to suspect that you actually trust this thing with your life. You should know better." Auriel folds her arms and cocks her head. "This is why I can't let you alone. It's rather endearing, really. But I - "

"Do not speak to me as if I'm a child."

"You weren't alive when I - "

"Enough about the light-forsaken elementomachy!" Flint shouts. "-You- weren't there when the Shadow used its own body to protect the villagers! It almost died, Auriel! I had to pull it into the boat and pull out the arrows! And what does it get in return? Disdain. Fear. Suspicion. It gets hunted! What other recourse does it have to survive if you make it into a monster and treat it like one?!"

Auriel is unable to respond. She seems horrified.

You feel a deep sense of satisfaction.

"I'll tell you what's wrong with what you preach," Flint says. "It isn't that there was too much magic - it's that people were people. We had too much power, and we abused it and hurt each other. In the elementomachy, it was on a huge scale because of the magic. But those conflicts have never ended. They've kept going, and you've helped keep them going because of your close-mindedness. What needs to change isn't the magic in the world - it's US. People need to change. Society itself need to change. If we're too irresponsible to handle the kind of power we toss around every day, maybe we should take a second look at ourselves and learn some goddamn discipline!"

By the time Flint has had his say, his light is flaring brightly enough to make you shrink back. The parasite rattles and twists, and slowly shunts it back.

"...so...that is how you feel," Auriel states.

Flint tries to say something else, but the creature latched to his soul steals the words.

"No more words for me, Flint?" Her voice cracks. "Please. Tell me more about how I've been wrong and killed people for the hell of it."

"T-that's not...I don't..." Flint can't find his voice.

<The parasite is stunting his speech,> you say. <Flint. Calm down. Say what you need to say.>

He can't force the words out.

"Yes," Auriel says. "I'm sure. Because he had such a hard time with his --speech- just earlier."

She guides her horse a distance away and stares at the canyons. Flint bites his lip. He works his reigns in his hands. But he does not move.

Slowly, you make camp for the night.

Joey and Flint sit silently by the camp. Normally, Joey would already be waving his sword around, but he senses the mood. He's been quiet, of late. You wonder what he thinks about all this debate.

Auriel is a bit back from the fire. She and Flint have been avoiding each other's gazes for the past half hour. You can sense the awkwardness, the strange hurt that doesn't want to go away.

It bothers you. You will not let it go unresolved. You move toward Auriel.

<A word, angel.>

"...I'm not an angel anymore." She puts her head between her knees and draws them in close. "I've had enough words for one night. Just leave me be."

<It's not about you, or me. It's about Flint.>

She slowly lifts her head. "...what about him?"

<The parasite chooses when to rob his words. It works with pointed, malicious intent. Before the Kanians attacked, the mayor wanted to burn Abigail at the stake.>

"He what?"

<...you are surprised. Does that not meet with your approval?>

"Death by burning alive is cruel and unnecessary. Especially for one so young. They should have contacted the imperial embassy in Evinbrook."

<Undead killed the mayor's brother.>

"...I see. That explains it."

<Yes. When people close to another die, they seem to act more on emotion, rather than logic.>

Auriel's gaze darkens. "You said you had something to tell me about Donovan."

<I did. Sir Flint spoke out against the mayor's action in front of the townspeople. The parasite actively prevented him from from convincing the villagers with words. That was not the first time such a thing has happened, and it has not been the last. I can see the creature move - wrapping, constricting around his soul. It chooses the worst moments for him to stumble, either over his feet, or his words. It does his best to destroy him. It drinks of him, when he'd otherwise shine brightest.

<I do not know why, and I do not know how, but that parasite must be removed. That is why I am going into the gorge. It is not to prove a point about a lich - it is because I believe this is the best chance we have of helping Sir Flint. If we can find common ground on something, surely, it's there.>

"...I'm not sure how he feels about me, after...that."

You sigh heavily. <Even -I- can see he is infatuated with you.> She blinks, her face blank. <Are you surprised?>

"...I...yes."

<I will...help you, in that. Because he is my friend, and I believe he has affection for you. If - IF - you will set aside our differences and focus on what needs to be done. I cannot fear a dagger at my back in battle, if it comes to that.>

"They say...the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Well." Auriel looks at you. "You're not exactly a friend...but I'll accept you as an ally. For now."

<Understood. Then, to business. Now, the night you both imbibed ignorance potions, you asked Sir Flint what it would take to get in bed with a demonslayer. He said you would nearly need to dress poorly and ask nicely. I suggest you take off your armor to facilitate copulation, if that is your immediate goal.>

Auriel doesn't blush, this time. "You as blunt as a club...but I think I'm getting used to it. Did...uh...I phrase it that way?"

<You did. You were quite blunt, yourself. I was with the understanding that -smooth talk- was preferable in such situations. Do you not have much experience in the matter?>

"...it's been a while."

<Why does Sir Flint attract you?>

"...when we were on the airship...we spoke. It wasn't for that long...but...something about the way he stands."

<...the way he stands,> you state flatly.

"When you've met as many people as I have, Shadow, you come to know them at a glance," she says. "His posture...said he carried a burden as large as the sky. And still, he stood, and took it all, refusing to bend. And...well, he did rather sweep me off my feet...what woman wouldn't..." She sighs. "...I don't think I'm explaining this well."

<I believe I have the essence of your argument.>

"...and...he is, of course, physically attractive. That makes more immediate sense to you, I'm sure."

<That makes less sense. I'm unsure why humans judge things by appearances. The appearance of something often has nothing to do with the thing in question.>

"...well...so it is." Auriel opens her hands. "If he...does...have feelings for me, why doesn't he say so?"

<Why don't you say as much to him?>

"...I don't know."

<Let me tell you what I have observed,> you say. <I have observed that humans hesitate to say exactly what they mean. He cannot be blunt about his feelings for you - for the same reason that, when sober, he doesn't talk about your tits. And probably for the same reason he keeps calling you -Highest-, rather than Auriel.

<I think Flint has lived with this parasite - survived - since he was quite young,> you continue. <He has spent most of his life mired in failure. He is strong, but his confidence is fragile. He does not really believe he has a chance for your affections. He thinks you are too high, -Highest-, to far above to reach - and even if he did, that thing on his soul would crush his hope. And so he doesn't even bother. Perhaps he's taken all he can take. Perhaps he can't bear another failure.>

"...dear spirits."

<He mentioned some events in the past that continue to trouble him,> you say. <I cannot mention specifics. It is not for me to say. But despite working as hard, if not twice as hard as the rest of his brothers, he feels that he's always compared negatively to them. A runt of a litter, if you will. I believe there was once a woman he cared for, deeply, and the parasite ruined the relationship, or otherwise stole him from her.>

Auriel is very still for some time. "...you...understand him...far deeper than I do."

<That is not for me to say.>

"...I thank you, Shadow."

<You are welcome.>

Auriel nods to herself, then stands. She strides toward the campfire.

Auriel plants her feet directly in front of Flint, who had been sitting on the ground, rubbing his sword with a whetstone. He starts when he sees her armored legs, then sits up. "...ah...Highest?"

"Highest? Again?"

"Uh, well, yes, but I - "

"Stand up."

"I - "

"I said, stand."

Flint stands.

Auriel grabs him and pulls him into a long, ravenous kiss.

Joey's eyes bug out of his head.

Eventually, Auriel leans back from it, and faces a stiff, totally bewildered Flint. "I thought I told you to call me Auriel. Don't forget again...or I might have to make a punishment of it."

"Yes, High - "

Auriel's face warps into a mask of death.

"Er, Auriel. Auriel."

"Better." She inches back from him a bit. "...what I said earlier was unfair. I apologize. I was...frustrated."

"...you don't have to apologize...Auriel."

She looks at him, and smiles. "No. I do. The...shadow...and myself...have come to an understanding. I'll not trouble you further until we get whatever curse plagues you removed and gone for good. And in exchange, you - you should be more open with yourself."

"...y-you too."

Auriel smirks. "Hmm. I already am." She walks back across the campfire and plops back down without another word.

You sit next to her. <...that was...unexpected.>

"I thought to take a leaf from your book." For the first time, she extracts a bedroll from under her saddlebag and spreads it out on the ground. She lays down, shutting her eyes. "...exhausted..." She cracks an eyelid and stares at you. "You kill me, I haunt you for life."

<I wouldn't want that. I plan on living a very long time.>

The edge of a smirk turns her lip, and then she rolls onto her side, facing away from you.

You hop over to Flint.

He slowly turns his head to you. "...what just happened?"

<I believe you have moved one step closer to achieving copulation, and playing with her Hyperion-blessed tits, and sheathing yourself in both of her two holes. Which holes are those, by the way?>

"...later."

<As you would.>

You stay alert through the night, patrolling the edge of camp, as had become your habit.

The sun rises.

Auriel stretches like a cat, then sits up. She rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. "...sleeping in armor, again."

Flint is already awake. He glances over. "You know, you get used to it, on the road."

Auriel joins him and Joey at breakfast. "You must have traveled alone for a time, but that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"...when the wars dragged on, I slept in my armor so much...going back to a bed was strange. I had to wear it just to sleep, the first few weeks. Sometimes I just slept on the floor of my rooms."

Flint nods slowly. "...I suppose so." He raises his head. "Then...are we into the canyons?"

"Forward to Tarun Gakth," Auriel says. "Against all better judgement."

<It will turn out well. You'll see.>

"I'll believe that, Shadow, after I actually see it."

You wrap up breakfast quickly, and soon, you're on the move. The canyons approach quickly. Close up, they seem much higher, walls of pained stone in reds and whites and bold orange. Earth fought wind, here, and wind won...though it seems strange to think so.

You're relatively high up...and you can see the lands beyond the entrance you've chosen. The winding canyons stretch on like a forest of stone, over the horizon. It's like a maze and a desert fused as one, though the shade at the bottom of the canyons is cool, almost chill.
>pictured

An hour passes, and you come to a fork.

<Wait.> You stretch over the center of the fork. A orange sigil glows into existence. The triangle spins, then points directly to the northern passage. <Our heading. As predicted.>

"...or a one-off trap to get us nice and lost," Auriel mutters.

You ignore her and lead the way down the towering corridor.

Branches of stone connect the rock above, like little bridges. The width of the canyon warps and ships up the sides, all the way to the sliver of sky high, high above. It feels unnatural...rock pulverized, cracked by a furious wind, and then worn smooth as glass.

You reach another intersection...much larger, this time, a big break in the stone. Spears of rock like oversized stalagmites dot the small plain. The sky above had grown grey with clouds. Many different passages split off from this section.

<There's sure to be another sigil, probably in the center.>

"Mmm," Auriel agrees. "Nice and exposed down there. Perfect spot for some kind of magical trap."

<Your pessimism is not helping our efforts.>

"No, but annoying you is my last recourse for entertainment in the middle of blasted, light-forsaken lands such as these."

You decide to ignore her, and lead the way toward the center of the field of rock.

...booom....

"...what was that?" Joey asks.

...booom...

"...run," Flint says. "Run! Gallop!"

...BOOOM....

The horses break into a gallop. Joey's horse rears, then takes off even faster than the other two. You sprint behind them, not quite at full speed, but putting effort into your run.

...BOOOM!

A huge golem emerges from behind a thick spear of rock. Its arms hiss and grind as it turns to look at you.

EERRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHH

A huge foot crushes the ground next to you. Cracks spiderweb through the rocks. The blast throws you slightly, but your wings guide you back to your friends. The robot turns to chase you, each stomp of its feet like a miniature earthquake.

You bounce up onto a pointed stalagmite and fly back toward the golem!

It swings hard! You try to dodge, but you've got too much momentum - and as it closes in, you realize that fist alone is the size of a shed! It scrapes along the ground, blowing away rock and dust.

You flap furiously, trying to gain altitude, but the debris from its sweep knocks you about, and its fist smashes into you! You're sent flying!

You're able to right yourself, and you land hard, then leap into the sky once more. The golem has turned back toward the horses, which are halfway across the valley.

Stomping feet shake the ground. Joey's horse slows, bucks, and he rolls off!

You're there. A giant foot comes down from the sky, but you're gone, dashing with the speed of shadow before it contacts. Joey rides on your shoulders, gripping your shadowy aura as hard as he can.

He glances up behind you just in time to see the horse get swatted into the canyon wall. It smashes to blood and gore on the stone.

He turns white as snow, then pins himself against your body. "RUN SHADOW, RUUUUN!!!!"

The golem unleashes its screech of steel and steam.

EERRRRRAAAAAHHHHH

The ground shakes.

...but it's different...the shaking isn't from a footstep...it doesn't stop, and gets louder, louder!

RUMBLE - CRASH

ROOOOOUUUAAAAAGGGGHH

A huge worm emerges from the stone, a titan of flesh and scales. Its face is a giant mouth, circular, lined with hundreds and hundreds of rotating teeth.

You're caught between two giants.

Shadow Quest Chapter 21

Joey screams.

You take a sharp right as your projection speeds forward toward the worm, shrieking and growling like a version of yourself gone mad.

The golem sweeps down with a hand...aimed straight at you!

But you dodge, flickering to the right before it hits. A gust of air blasts dust in your face as the hammer of stone rockets by. Joey seems too scared to scream anymore, but you've gotten by the golem!

The worm rumbles across the ground toward your projection, engulfing it within its mouth. You can feel the magic burst on contact with it. The worm continues forward straight toward the golem.

The golem lifts a foot as the beast nears...you think it's going to try to kick it!

You turn and sprint for the far wall of the canyon.

The golem's foot reaches the worm, and there's a tremendous smack of stone on flesh. The golem's foot actually lifts the worm up into the air, crushing into its side...

...and the worm reacts, twisting, constricting around the leg of the golem! They fall together, tumbling across the ground.

<Hold tight!> You extend a few arms and strap Joey to your back. You sprint faster, then faster - because the rolling mass of worm and golem is headed straight for you.

You're running as fast as you can.

You flit by the edge of the canyon like a shadow, and an instant later, the golem and the worm crush into the stone wall. The jagged canyon rock cracks and falls in a landslide of dust and rock. It billows out behind you, rushing over you as you continue to sprint.

But the cloud slows, and eventually, you're free. The roar of the worm fades slightly, and a long rumble shakes the ground. You reach the end of the canyon.

<Flint! Angel!>

"Shadow! Here!"

You find Flint and Auriel astride their mounts, hesitating at the mouth of another canyon. They both look relieved when you stop before them and drop Joey off. He rolls on the ground, then props himself up on his hands and knees. "...holy...shit..."

"Never a dull moment," Auriel says.

You all glance back into the canyon. The shower of dust is slowly drifting across the stone. The worm's rumble continues to fade...

<Hold here,> you say. <I'm going to find his last sigil.>

"Alone?" Flint asks.

<I'm faster, quieter,> you say. <And I can take a hit from that golem and live.>

Auriel nods. "The shadow, in this instance, is right. We should stay out of this one."

"Use caution," Flint says. "Find the sigil, and get back."

<Indeed.>

You creep down into the gorge.

After the tumultuous battle, its quiet. You keep your aura pressed low and stay as quiet as you can. Eventually, you enter the cloud of dust hanging over the stone. It's like a fog of yellow silt.

You press yourself to the floor of the valley and search for the sigil...

You spend a few minutesspent combing the canyon...

...buuuzzzz...

The sigil flares. The triangle rises, turns, and points toward the end of the canyon you just came from, but you think it's indicating the canyon one over from where Flint and Auriel are waiting.

You begin to creep away...

...but a break in the dust clouds catches your eye.

The wrecked canyon wall comes into view. Dust roils over the body of the golem. Pistons jerk irregularly in its joints. The lights on parts of its face and eyes flash and blink. Half-buried by rock, it doesn't move. Nearby, you can see a second titanic hole carved into the rock - probably where the worm drilled back into the earth.

You send Flint an image of the wrecked golem, and a feeling of curiosity, and, of course, great caution.

You work your way toward the fallen mechanical monstrosity.

A grey-brown glow flares from the robot's head. You freeze.

A broken arm lifts off the ground. Rock pieces itself together, melts, fuses, and solidifies. Its left arm looks as good as new.

The robot doesn't move, and the remainder of its body is still pretty busted up. But then, it lasted this long out here...it's probably fixing itself as you stand there.

You rush toward the creature. If you can find what's powering it, you can take it out of commission for good.

The creature's chest shudders. Steam pours from cracks as a sort of door extends, then folds away, revealing the internal metallic workings of the huge creature. You're suddenly flooded with a sense of the magic on its insides...

Machines clank out from its belly. There's five - eight - no, twelve in total, soldiers made of iron. They tower at least several feet above the largest humans you've seen, and they move much faster and with more precision than their larger friend.

Glowing brown eyes are all focused directly on you.

You hold your position.

Perhaps these things can communicate? They don't seem to be controlled by any nearby mages.

You send the machines a feeling of calm, and an Impression of great curiosity.

The machines are silent. But their eyes flicker.

Suddenly, the machine in front moves. It points a finger over your shoulder. A garbled series of pops and clicks and static rises from it. But even with your natural ability to Translate...you can't understand a word of what it's saying.

You Impress a feeling of confusion. You send images of them talking, and you not understanding. You waver in uncertainty. You then impress them with an image of peace.

But as you're trying to from the last image, the lead iron golem jabs its arm a second time. You hear what you think is the same pattern of sounds, louder, more forceful. It's capped by a short, extra bit.

The giant golem's other arm is piecing itself together...the legs are still crushed, and its torso hasn't moved.

That magic inside the golem is powerful.

You've tried to communicate with these things, but it's been a useless endeavor. Besides, the golem attacked you outright. These smaller soldiers must just be stalling for time.

You sprint forward.

Three robots converge with unnatural speed, hammering in with their fists and connecting with solid strikes. A fourth robot digs its hands into the ground. A brown aura twists around its chest, and the combination attack is completed as a stalagmite spears from the earth and right into the heart...

...of your projection.

The image shatters, but you're already by, sprinting toward the door to the golem's core!

But another row of the robots sprints to meet you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7t_59E37ndg

These iron creatures aren't normal...not soft, like men.

You can't hold back.

You feel as though you flick a switch somewhere inside you...and instinct takes over.

The robots move in unison, surrounding you. Some of them glow with power. Others prepare steely fists.

Your arms lash out to reach them.

You punch one with three of your arms twisted together. It flies backwards, bowling over a companion, its chest dented in so far as to cut it in half.

Another robot leaps at you from behind. Your tendrils spike out without you thinking. You impale the golem, then throw it off your body, sending it careening into a robot that was preparing one of the earth-manipulating spells.

You slam into the line of robots blocking entrance to the core. They fly back. Two of them grapple your body, clawing, beating at you, but you simply drag them forward. You sweep through the entrance to the core, knocking them off of you by slamming them against nearby protrusions of rock and steel.

You've damage some of the robots, and killed 4.

The other 6 are right behind you.

Your senses tell you that the source of magic is above you.

You can feel a pulse of magic above you, sending out shoots and sparks into the body of the golem...you clamber up into the tangled metallic innards of the machine, using pistons and thick supporting beams to lever yourself up. You ink through spaces that have been crushed tight.

The robots are right on your tail! Their steel bodies are more articulated than you realized...they're easily following you through the nest of the machine.

One of them grabs you! It pulls you down, clawing at you! You manage to slip away, but the rest of them are parallel with you. You're in danger of being surrounded.

You struggle upward...you suspect the power source is in the golem's head.

You blast up through the tangled weave of steel, gaining back your lost ground. As it gets tighter toward the neck of the robot, you suddenly have the advantage, inking and slipping directly upward. They're forced to take another route, a slightly wider passage on either side of the neck.

You burst up into the head.

It's relatively spacious. Strange outputs glow on the walls...dots, text, flickering with magical power. A display of the golem itself is front and center. Both arms are shown in green light. The torso and head are red. The legs are yellow, and steadily turning green. Perhaps this indicates its state of repair?

But you don't have time to ponder it. In the center of the room is what appears to be a small dynamo. The pedestal is rests on is connected by a hundred cables and bolts and beams, out to the rest of the structure like the center of a brain.

It reminds you of the orb you saw on the smaller golem, far back in the Old Forest Keep.

You didn't come this far to admire the inner workings of the golem.

You know what you have to do.

You have to yank hard...but the metal bends for your strength. You grunt and strain, beating and striking the connecting shell away from the mini-dynamo. You lift it off the pedestal.

The inside of the golem goes black. Of course, that poses no problem for you. The dynamo still glows slightly.

The robots arrive in the head-room. They line up on either end of the entrance, seemingly unhampered by the dark. They stare at you, holding the orb.

On impulse, you raise the orb, as if to smash it.

They all flinch.

...oh ho...

Now that you have their attention...you decide another attempt at communication is in order.

You impress upon them a sense of peace, and of you talking. <Can you understand me?> you say. And then you impress two feelings, one after the other...confusion, and acknowledgement.

One of the robots lifts an arm to the others. It steps forward, then speaks in its garbled language. It shakes its head, then points at its head.

You don't find that particularly enlightening. Any meaningful communication seems quite unlikely.

You slowly withdraw your pen and journal from your satchel.

You extend the two implements to the robot. It doesn't move. You waggle your arm slightly, emphasizing your intent. The robot hesitantly takes the book and pen.

The pen leaps to action. The book flips open in midair. The robots tense slightly, but don't move.

The pen starts scribbling across the pages at a furious pace, scratching, scraping, scrawling. it flies over to you, then jabs at your belt.

You remember the portable inkwell. You open the pocket. Immediately, the pen dips itself, then flies back to the journal and continues to write.

You Impress the robot with curiosity, and a sense of peace once more. You impress it with an image of words flying out of its brain and landing on the book.

The eyes of the robots blink in quick succession. The pen freezes for a moment.

The lights stop blinking, and the pen begins to write again, somewhat more slowly. Then it stops.

You reach out for the book and examine the freshly minted pages.


The first few pages are totally unintelligible, and repetitive.

You flip past the nonsense to the part where the pen wrote more slowly. You have a feeling, that if anything nonsensical has been written, it will be there.

It's in another language...but as you stare, the words shift, and become meaningful.

MECHANIST MISSIVE
CURRENT STANDING ORDERS
-none-
CURRENT STANDING DERIVATIVES
-reparation attempt active (enemies: 1)-
--sub derivative: protect power core
---sub derivative: discern enemy intent
----sub derivative: destroy enemy
-ENEMY 1
--Element: Shadow
--Nature(s): Elemental, Vaporal, Shapeshifter, Converter
--Assessment: Aggressive. Extreme danger.
---subassessment: Shadow element(?) -> earth
----subassessment: communicative. Reasonable(?)
-communicae received: telepathy. data reconstruction successful.
-communicae attempted: lang-1. Comprehension(?)

...there's a certain logic to the writing...but it's intensely...alien.

You stare at the bottom few lines.

Communicae...successful. Perhaps that means they understood your impressions somewhat?

You decide to try asking a question outright. <How long have you been here?>

The pen begins to write. Some of it is the numbers and strange characters you couldn't make sense of, but a few things become clear...

>time here
--defined: here, Venia
---construction - 894.2
--define: here, Va'ad
---unknown
--define: here, power core
---0.0000000000...

...you feel as though it is trying its best. By 894...894 years?

That's a long time.

You decide to impress it with a series of images. Humanoids construct them. You show their builders dying. And then, the sun and moon rising and falling, faster, until the images flicker and dance, and the landscape turns into desert-like canyons. Finally, you show them an image of them following you.

The eyes of the robots all blink brown, on and off. And then the pen starts to write.

CURRENT STANDING ORDERS
-none-
CURRENT STANDING ORDERS
-none-
CURRENT STANDING ORDERS
-none-

The pen stops, then starts again.

CURRENT STANDING DERIVATIVES
-reparation attempt active (neutrals: 1)
--sub derivative: regain power core
---sub derivative: discern neutral intent
-Neutral 1
--Element: Shadow
--Nature(s): Elemental, Vaporal, Shapeshifter, Converter
--Assessment: Possible hostile. Extreme danger.
---subassessment: Shadow element(?) -> earth
----subassessment: communicative. Reasonable.
-communicae received: telepathy. data reconstruction successful.
-communicae attempted: lang-1. Comprehension(N). communicae attempted: missive log. Comprehension (?)

<Why is the power core important?>

The pen moves.

STATUS
-steelstone shell golem: offline
-power controls: disabled
-unit charging stations: offline
--last repair status: critical


Unit 1: charge 987/1000
Unit 2: charge 945/1000
Unit 3: charge 876/1000
Unit 4: charge 709/1000
Unit 5: charge 893/1000
Unit 6: charge 201/1000
Unit 7: charge 403/1000 -critical-
Unit 8: charge 366/1000 -critical-
Unit 9: charge -offline-
Unit 10: charge -offline-
Unit 11: charge -offline-
Unit 12: charge -offline-

<Who gives you your orders?>

CURRENT STANDING ORDERS
-none-

<...what were your last standing orders before right now?>

LOG 8023489021934
CURRENT STANDING ORDERS:
-escape destruction
--logged: mechanist 345-B (Tal'ok)

<Who or what is Tal'ok?>

...accessing database...
TAL'OK
-rank: master mechanist
--ID: 345-B
---deceased

<Does anyone give you orders now?>

CURRENT STANDING ORDERS:
-none-

CURRENT STANDING DERIVATIVES
-subject to self-input-
--subsubject Steward directive--

You're getting a bit frustrated.

You impress it with an image of individuals building the orb, and then placing it in the golem, which moves about. You send it an image of you and them producing a second orb. You return their orb, and leave with the second one.

The pen moves, pauses, then moves again.

...accessing database...
Access failure. Data corruption.

Maybe if you can come up with a replacement, you can move on from this strange situation.

You try to focus your shadows once more, trying a different approach. You make a small core of shadow, then another shell outside that, then another outside that. You try to spin them together.

The small orb tears itself apart before it even gets going.

Dammit.

You glance at the robots. You bring forward an Impression of what you just did, then you hold up the power core. You compare the two images side by side.

...accessing database...
...access failure. Data corruption.

You feel rather put out.

All this stuff about orders...maybe they need orders?

<Can I give you orders?>

UNIDENTIFIED NEUTRAL (1_
-rank: unknown
--ID: unknown
---access level: -none-

<What's the difference between a derivative and an order?>

--defined: order
---routine or command input
----higher rank = greater weight

--defined: derivative
---self-input or Steward directive

---------------
---------------

This conversation isn't getting anywhere. The robots seem to be somewhat self-directed, but you can't control them. They still surround you on all sides...you're certain they want their 'power core' back in its place.

You draw yourself back up.

<I need to get through these canyons in peace,> you say. <If I return the core, will you help me and my companions?>

MISSIVE NOTES (mechanist's eyes only)
-exception 23.B
--exif: vital communication

-request (1) - return power core
-request (2) - vacate premises
-request (3) - leave

-note (1) - conflict avoidance protocol (abif_34-5 active)

Then pen falls silent, and does not move again. It seems they've grasped the idea behind its enchantment. A normal being probably wouldn't be able to 'stop' their thoughts like that.

It seems they don't want anything to do with you, and they aren't particularly pliable on the matter. But apparently they're willing to let you go without any more trouble.

You've attempted negotiation...and that failed. But then, perhaps robots just aren't the negotiating type.

You grip the power core tightly as you prepare to flee...

You lunge at the line of robots!

Your speed catches them by surprise after the long conversation. You smash their line aside, but not without taking a few hits.

and drop down through the giant golem's mechanical cavity.

You slam into the floor, hard.

A half-dozen drumbeats of iron hitting the floor snap into the ground around you!

You can't lead these things back to your friends. You sprint forward, heading for the still-open door to the golem.

The sunlight makes you wince after such a long time in the dark. Far below, in the center of the canyon, Flint, Auriel, and Joey have moved out in search of you. They're still quite a bit away, though.

You turn back and plant yourself as the golems quickly approach.

You gather your mana. Your aura condenses...

Spears of darkness storm forward!

They plunge into the golems, stabbing through steel and ripping off arms and legs. One loses its head, and falls, dead. Another is shredded to pieces. The remainder of your attack flies into the golem's open cavity, dissipating in the steel and stone of the giant.

Only two golems remain after the attack, but they're right on top of you!

You flicker aside, but you're just a bit too slow. A steel fist slams into you as you roll away.

Your allies are riding fast toward the battle. The two golems face you cautiously, one to either side. You glance back and forward between them.

You've blown away the greater part of the robots with both your magic and berserk ability, but two still remain! One is on either side of you, just outside the opened cavity of the giant golem.

You're allies are riding toward you, but it'll be a little longer until they get there.

You're not going to wait for their help to finish off these tin cans!

You've already faced twelve robots and lived...the two remaining won't last long. And they've conveniently divided their own forces.

You lunge toward the robot on your right to take it down before they try something -

- but you're surprised when it leaps back, avoiding your strikes! It dives to get out of the way of your follow up, but you pursue faster than it can run. You raise a nest of tentacles for what is sure to be a decisive blow -

A wall of rock blasts out of the ground in front of you, cutting you off from your target! You slam into it, crushing through - but not without taking it head first. You're stunned by the blow!

The robot you chased returns to its companion, who withdraws its hands from the earth, having finished its spell. They don't try to press you while you're stunned. You face your enemy again, more wary.

Flint and Auriel are almost there.

You Blink behind the robots!

You don't feel the movement. It's as if the two spaces were, for a moment, one space, and you simply step from one to the other.

You rise up in the robot's shadow, baring the Power Core between sharp, shadowy teeth! You Impress a wave of thought at them.

<STOP!>

The robots ignore you completely, leaping for the power core!

But you knew it might not work. Even as they attack, you Ink out of the way, and your tentacles are swift to wrap them both in a vice-grip! You coil yourself around them, constricting their limbs to their chests.

The robots shift and articulate their many joints, trying to escape, but you keep up with their movements easily. You smash them against the ground once, twice, three times like ragdolls. They stop moving, and you dump their bodies to the stone.

The shells of the other robots have long since lost their energy...but these two still glow with magical residue.

You roil over the two robots, acidifing their metal. They have tiny power cores of their own...rapidly degrading, but still available for consumption.

>2 EXP from CONSUME
>+4 EXP from battle (total: 8)
>+4 HP from CONSUME (24/37)
>+1 mana from CONSUME (5/10)

"Shadow!" Flint and Auriel finally ride up in a cloud of dust. "We felt the magic from up the canyon," he says. "What the hell happened?"

<I was curious what it took to power such a titanic construct,> you say. <Also since dwarven technology might be valuable in figuring how to try something similar with shadows> You raise the glowing power core, <I retrieved this from the golem. It was also trying to repair itself...I figured that the source of its power was better off in our hands.>

Auriel's eyes widen. Flint nods, glancing around at the broken and shredded golems. "I guess it had a few guards. Everything ok?"

<Yes.>

"Well...be careful when you do things by yourself," Flint cautions. "But good work. Did you find the sigil before all that happened?"

<I did. I can guide us to the appropriate entrance.>

You lead your allies to the correct canyon and start down the winding passage...

You begin down the canyon. Joey rides behind Flint, as his horse met an untimely end.

It deepens, and narrows rapidly. Soon, it's so narrow you can reach out and easily touch both walls.

The canyon continues down, down. It gets very cool, and eventually the floor actually pools with a few inches of water. But it doesn't get any deeper than that, and the horses slosh through without a problem.

You continue forward...

You continue through the cave.

You push the well of untapped power back into your form...it's a familiar feeling, now. You don't remember whatever you were before you lost your memory...but your body does.

A new feeling of magic wells inside you. The water within the living things around you becomes clear...you feel as though, with a bit of a push, they could be Healed.

Along with that is a greater sense of life. You sense the bugs buzzing around the water's surface, landing, creating the tiniest of ripples. A lizard crawls into the crack between two rocks. Spiders make their webs in the nooks and crannies of the canyon. Bits of mold and moss and water-born weeds pop out at you. The barren rocks are teeming with more life than you suspected.

Eventually, the party emerges from the watery sections of the canyon, though, so far deep, it remains cool. Eventually, you reach a wide clearing with three more passages leading out.

The sigil jumps up when you touch it, indicating the canyon to the far right. But this deep...it's getting dark. And fast.

"...we should make camp," Auriel says. "This place is dangerous enough in the day. I don't want the horses to break a leg."

Flint nods. "Let's hold the fire, tonight. We shouldn't draw attention to yourselves."

You make camp. Your companions have a filling if unappetizing dinner of hard biscuits and jerky. You scout down a short distance through each canyon, but they are devoid of any dangers or interesting features.

Auriel stretches back on her bedroll. "...been a while since I did this sort of thing. Feels...good."

Flint raises an eyebrow. "It feels good to trek though this place and hurt your teeth chewing biscuits? Might as well be rocks."

"I don't see you complaining, either."

"I'm used to it."

"Well..." She sighs. "...too much pomp and circumstance. Too many red carpets, palaces, fluffy beds. If you live soft, you get soft. Live hard, stay sharp. Aware."

"I think I know what you mean."

Joey looks up at Flint. "Um...Sir Flint..."

"Sparring?" Joey nods excitedly. "I don't know where you get the energy...or the enthusiasm, after today."

"...Shadow saved me," Joey said. "But it won't always be there. I've got to get stronger on my own."

"...you've changed."

"What do you mean?"

Flint shrugs, then stands. "You know eventually." He draws their wooden practice swords from a saddlebag and tosses one to his squire. "Ready yourself."

You walk over to Auriel while Flint and Joey practice. There's a couple smacks of wood on wood, and then Joey hisses and clutches his shin. "Ow,ow,ow!"

"I've taught you the parry you should have used." Flint grabs Joey's wrist, then moves the sword into the appropriate position. "Deflect, yes. But deflect AWAY from the body. Again. And this time, I'll hit harder if you mess up."

Joey swallows, and nods. They start up again.

Auriel's eyes are on Flint. You sidle up to her. <You have not done anything since you kissed him.>

"...not much time," she says. "Not much privacy. He's fairly wrapped around my finger, I think, the way he's been looking at me all day. I've caught him staring at least ten times."

<Wrapped around your finger?>

"An expression. It means he's under...my...uh..." She clears her throat. "Well, he's attracted to me, and that gives me a certain influence over him."

<I see.> You face her directly. <Do you know anything about the power core?>

"That depends," she says. "Is what I tell you going to go straight back to the duke?"

<The duke, unlike some people, trusts and respects me for what I've done.>

"And you're a fool to trust someone you barely know based on a few pretty words," she says. "Why do you think I turn my nose up at you? Your thinking isn't unsound. But there are considerations beyond a logical argument. You can't trust the duke."

<You misunderstand,> you say. <While I respect the duke for his willingness to see Shadow as not inherently good or evil, I do not fully trust him. He's an ambitious man with many goals and many plans, and I know perfectly well he's capable of lying.> You raise the power core in your hand, then return it to your belt. <I'm merely interested in the potential of such a tool. If you have no words for me, that is fine. I understand we aren't exactly...'buddies'.>

"...you just don't get it. You haven't listened to a word I've said." She sighs. "...those power cores are useful for their energy. We've retrieved some over the years. But the empire and its engineers don't have to know-how to take advantage of them like the dwarves did. We can't replicate their technology. Their unique magics were inherent in the designs, the forging of the parts and pieces...we don't have that, and we never will. We can only maintain what little is left. As to how the core is formed, I know not."

<I see. Thank you.>

"...what, no rebuttal? No long-winded response?"

<You almost sound as if you enjoy it.>

"Hardly."

<How do they maintain current reserves?>

She shrugs. "Ask an engineer, Shadow. I'm no expert. I only know that they do. The guild was under the purview of other angels."

You nod, then move off. Joey manages to defend himself somewhat better than the first few nights, but he's still going to wake up with plenty of bruises. He heals fast...

You watch the night as your companions slumber.

You pause.

...something grabs at your senses.

You step forward into one of the other canyon you came from. The night parts for your gaze...in fact, you see more easily during the night. No light to get in the way.

A slithering lizard crawls up over the stone. It's soaked in water...you can feel water swirling within it. It's sizable, at least as large as a man. Scales coat it in thick layers. The scales thin up toward a long snout holding rows of sharp teeth protruding from its lips.

You wait in silence, bending your senses toward the lizard as it crawls forward. Its snout hangs low...doesn't seem to have noticed you yet.

You sit and watch, trying to discern the nature of the lizard.

You're certain it is at least quite resistant to magic...but you don't think it could use any strong power. The scales are definitely thinner toward the head, but that weakness is balanced by an intimidating pair of jaws.

It still hasn't noticed you.

The time is now.

Your shadows leap up, then bend at an unnatural angle.

The lizard doesn't even twitch before your attack spears down through its skull, pinning it to the stone. It's dead before it knew it was being attacked.

You already know what you have to do...

...you roil over the lizard and CONSUME it.

You slowly walk back to camp, feeling satisfied.

You pause. Auriel is awake. She's leaning over Joey. Her hands are glowing.


You wait, and watch.

The glow in her hands faces. She seems to examine him for a moment, then nod to herself. She turns, looking at Flint's sleeping form for a moment. Then she slips back to her bedroll and lays down.

You walk into the center of camp.

<Angel?>

Auriel doesn't move.

<...I saw you casting magic over Joey.>

She sighs, then sits up. "Just taking the edge off those bruises," she whispers.

You stare at her, and wait.

"...and making sure there wasn't any shadow over him."

You decide to ignore the implication. <I see. Healing magic is useful.>

"It was...what I started with, way back when. Eventually, when things got bad, I was forced to fight. Turned out I had more talent for that than healing."

<Why didn't you simply heal him before he went to sleep?>

"A young man's pride is a sensitive thing," she says. "Let him have his little victories. If he climbs this obstacle, he'll be stronger under greater pressure, later."

<What if he overestimates himself?>

"I hardly think he'll do that because he got over a few of the worse bruises, proud or not," she says. She smirks. "Besides. There's a subtly to healing...mend and strengthen the flesh, but leave the ache - and the lesson."

<I see.>

<I feel as though I could use Water, to heal,> you say. <Would you have any advice to impart to me?>

"I've no talent in water magic. Different elements work very differently."

<I see. Good night, then. I will continue to patrol.>

Auriel nods, then rests on her bedroll.

The rest of the night is uneventful.

Just as night quickly fell in the deep canyon, the day leaps up all at once. After a brief breakfast, the party gets moving.

You wander down the canyons. You pass ten more sigils, but for all you know, make no progress. The canyons have been thin, winding for some time. The rock is warped and twisted above you, streaked orange and scraped raw by the wind of an elemental and the water of time.

Ahead, there's an opening that is very brightly lit. The twisting canyons seem to be at an end.

Auriel cocks her head. "...I feel something."

You bend your senses forward.

"Five of them," Auriel says quietly.

<I count at least 8,> you reply.

"Keep moving," Flint says. "Don't give sign you noticed."

The party walks along toward the opening. Flint slows his horse just slightly to buy more time. Joey bites his lip.

The 8 -feelings- are up above, high in the rock, out of sight. They move along with you as you continue forward.

<What are they?>

"I don't know," Auriel says. "More robots? Bandits? Could be anything."

You're confident in your ability to survive...but that's a lot for Joey to handle. And then there's Flint's curse...

You're nearly at the exit of the gorge.

<I'm going to try and take a look.> You grab the nearest handhold and begin to lift yourself up -

"Stop!" Flint hisses.

You settle back down into his horse's shadow. <What?>

"You're our trump card," he says. "They probably don't know you're there. Besides, if they wanted to attack, they could have - before we noticed them."

"...I don't like agreeing with Shadows...but we could use information on our pursuers," Auriel says.

<...I'll remain hidden.>

You settle into the shadow of Flint's horse.

Slowly, the hooves of the horses clop forward. the sound clacks across the rock, echoing upward, then back. You draw closer to the exit of the canyon, and as you do, you begin to hear a new sound...a low, constant roar.

You emerge into bright light.

You're standing on a wide, flat shelf. To your right is a tremendous waterfall. Mist rising from where the water lands creates a permanent rainbow against the rock.

Standing before you are three men. But they aren't exactly men. Their faces are ugly, disfigured. Their skin varies between mottled green, brown, and olive.

The one on the right is bulging with muscle enough to dwarf even Flint, who isn't a small man. A huge sword is strapped to his back. The one of the left is more slight, but has the presence of a raised dagger. A quiver and bow are strapped across his back, and his clothes are dotted with pockets and dangling with loose knives.

The one in the middle is dressed in simple brown robes. He holds a wooden staff. A thick chain of beads falls around his neck. You can feel the magic pulsing inside him - mostly water, a large amount of earth, and a dab of shadow. He's no doubt quite powerful.

It is the mage who speaks. "I am Rogul. Who are you, and why do you trespass upon our lands?"

Flint and Auriel exchange glances. He flicks his eyes between her and Rogul. Auriel dismounts, then steps forward.

"I am called Auriel. This is my companion, Sir Flint, and his squire. We pass through these lands in peace, in search of our friends, who we believe also passed this way."

Rogul slowly tilts his head. "...no other has passed. This land is sacred; tread-able only by those with permission. Return from whence you came."

"The arts of concealment are not unknown to our fourth companion," Auriel says. "He is a powerful mage, and has led us this far through the canyons by signs he left behind for that purpose. We do not wish to trespass, but it is imperative we continue forward. A life is at stake."

Rogul slowly rubs his chin, then drops his hand. "Perhaps the mage came. Perhaps not. But your troubles are your own, and I, nor we, want any part of them."

Auriel grits her teeth at the orc's stubbornness. Flint draws a breath.

<Flint. Anything I can do?>

Flint subtly lets his arm drop low. He points at Joey.

<Protect him?>

Flint makes a thumbs up under the horse's flank.

"We don't mean to make you part of them," Auriel says. "We only wish to move through as quickly and with as little disturbance as possible."

"You're already a disturbance. Leave, now."

Auriel looks as though her patience has worn thin.

<Flint. You should step in.>

Flint makes a thumbs-down and jerks it several times.

<She's going to blow up any second.>

Flint's face twists, but he slowly dismounts. "Don't move," he mutters to Joey. He walks up to Rogul.

The two orcs on either side of the mage tense at his his approach. But Flint stops with plenty of room remaining. "Rogul. Respectfully, I ask you ear a second time."

"...speak."

"Kan-Abar and Kelvere are at war," Flint says. "I was in a village called Jacob's Field when it was attacked by a force several thousand strong. A young girl named Abigail was sheltered by and fled with our friend, the mage, while I stayed to help in the town's defense.

"I swore to her parents that I would protect her, and see her safe. The mage chooses an odd path, but I follow nonetheless. You said that those with permission could pass. Please. What must I do to earn that permission?"

"...why would this mage come into Tarun Gakth?"

Flint hangs his head a moment, then meets Rogul's gaze. "She is of the Spirit element. Strongly. You know what the empire would do with her."

Rogul points to a bandage covering one of his eyes. "I know, knight." The finger is crooked at Flint. "What I fail to see...is why a knight so obviously of Arland, the dog of the empire, seeks to protect a girl who lives strong with the great Hecate?"

Flint begins to open his mouth.

The parasite grabs onto him.

You launch your own attack. You flood Flint with Impressions. Abigail, in trouble. Abigail, in need of help. Him, standing tall, speaking with confidence.

Flint's teeth grind with effort, but he manages the words. "Justice...my honor...does not begin at one element and end at...another. She is young, and innocent. I made a promise. And I will keep it."

Rogul is silent for a long time.

He taps his cane, and looks to the cliffs. "Who will vouch for this one?"

Flint and Auriel glance up. You follow their eyes. Eight more are scattered along the cliffs, watching you, bows drawn. None of them move.

"...your honor is strong, knight," Rogul says. "But if there is no one moved to vouch for you whilst in our lands, you may not pass. This is our law."

A voice rings out from behind a rock overlooking the waterfall. "I'll vouch for him."

A man stands. You're surprised - you didn't notice him at all. Auriel and Flint both look surprised as well. And what's more is that the man isn't an orc - he's human.

The man walks forward with easy grace. He wears thick, scored leather armor. It's decked with pockets and sheaths and belts. A quiver and bow are slung over his shoulder. A rope with a claw on one end is tied around one of his forearms. A balled up roll of red cloth hangs near his waist. There's even a cup dangling from a sash at his midsection. He looks like he's ready for any and every possible scenario.

His soul feels like a fire that will never go out. He's a match for Flint's light...for the Duke's lightning.

You wonder how he stayed hidden.

"...Kirt," Rogul says. "You are certain?"

The man named Kirt nods. "I am. I have a feeling Taremtis will want to see them."

"...is that so." Rogul taps his cane on the rock. It thumps into the ground with a solid finality. "So be it. Know that any wrong done by them will rest upon your shoulders as well."

The orcs up in the canyons retreat back into the rock, melding into nature with more than a little skill. The two bodyguards accompany Rogul away across the shelf.

Flint turns toward the man. "...I am Sir Donovan Flint...and I owe you a debt. Kirt."

"Are you of the Flint family, of Arland?"

"I am the fourth son of the great lord."

Kirt frowns and shakes his head. "What in the name of the 8 elements are you doing out here?"

Flint shrugs. "It's as I said."

"I don't doubt it. But don't you have better things to do?"

Flint looks back at the man. "What, roll around in the lap of luxury? Why do that when I can break my teeth on biscuits?"

The man blinks, then smirks. "...it does get old, after a time." He turns, and moves off after the orcs. "Where are you headed?"

"...the last marker pointed us forward." Flint glances across the waterfall. Another passage begins into the canyons almost directly across from you, starting on another shelf. Flint points to it. "I'd assume that's where we're headed."

"Well, two things," Kirt says. "First of all, that leads toward the Dead Plain. Break in the cliffs - and a nest of Rock Worm larvae. I don't know what the hell your friend was thinking, but he sure didn't want anyone but some very determined people following him."

Auriel looks annoyed at that. You imagine she still suspects Adavan is trying to throw you off the trail...but if he wanted to do that, he could have stopped leaving sigils a long time ago.

"And the second?" Flint asks.

"The second." Kirt stops at the edge of the shelf, and points. "Bridge is down there. And you're going to want a day's rest for that, anyway."

You reach the edge of the cliff. Stretching below you is a great city of wood and rock. Much of it is built into the walls of the cliffs surrounding the river. Newer sections with more wood protrude from the stone, houses, stairs, and other frameworks. Joey whistles. "Cool."

"Welcome to Refuge."

Flint scratches under his helm. "Where'd they get the wood?"

"Giant fungus, actually," Kirt says. "They farm them on the upper layers of the Deep. Most of the town is dwarven in construction, old ruins."

"...we -could- do with a rest," Auriel says. "And who is this Taremtis you mentioned?"

"A sage. He's completely insane, but he's good for advice in his lucid moments."

"...wonderful," Auriel mutters. "I can't imagine we'll get a warm welcome. Where will we be staying?"

"There's plenty more room in the city than the clan takes up," Kirt says. "Follow me." He starts down stone stairs carved into the cliff. There's no railing, or handhold - just four feet of stone, then a 200 foot drop. Joey clings to the inside while Flint and Auriel carefully lead the horses down to the ground level.

Shadow Quest Chapter 23

You eventually reach a long building set into a wall. Kirt leads you inside.

The inside of the building is cool. The stone cuts the heat of the canyon down to nothing. Dust motes spin in the rays of light coming in through the windows. A counter lines the back wall, and scattered tables fill the front of the room. It's mostly empty, but there are a few patrons here and there.

A feeling of exasperation rises up in you as you realize it's just a glorified bar.

"Hey, Olga!"

A plump but warm-looking orc woman walks from a back door. "Kirt? What do you - well. Hello there."

Flint introduces himself with a formal bow. "Sir Donovan Flint, of Dobshire. It's my pleasure to meet you."

Olga smiles. "So polite." She raises a hand.

Flint moves to take it - then trips over a chair. He scrambles to keep his balance, slapping his hands on a table. He just ends up dragging it on top of him, ending up a the bottom of a pile of wood. He groans.

"Donovan!" Auriel hops over to help extricate him from the wood and brushes him off. "Are you alright?"

"...fine," Flint mutters. "But my pride could use a bandage."

Olga bursts into heavy laughter. "A knight, indeed. You've always been a strange on, Kirt. I suspect you've vouched for them, if old Rogul let them inch a toe in refuge."

"You don't miss anything," Kirt says.

"Well, I'd also suspect you all want to stay here?"

"Ah...if it won't pose trouble," Flint says. "We mean to leave...in the morning, I suppose. I have plenty of - "

Olga waves a hand. "If Kirt's vouching, I don't want your money. Kirt, dear, show them to the rooms next to yours. I'll get dinner ready." The orc sways back into the other room. You catch a glimpse - looks like a kitchen.

You reach the upstairs hallway, and Kirt guides you into two rooms. Auriel is given her own space, and Flint and Joey share another slightly larger room with a bunk bed.

Kirt stands there for a moment as they all strip their gear and heave sighs of relief.

You glance at Kirt. His fiery soul hasn't abated a bit, but he seems as ease. Perhaps you're getting better at this hiding thing...or perhaps he doesn't mind.

<Flint,> you say, <Now might be a good time to reveal my presence. I have no wish to deceive this man.>

Flint scratches his head nervously.

<I'm sure. Go ahead.>

"...ah...Kirt."

"Mmm?"

"About our group," Flint says. "Something you should know...or rather, someone you should meet."

"I was wondering when you'd introduce me," the man says. "He's quite good at hiding. But not good enough to fool me." Kirt plants his hands on his hips and looks around. "Well...I don't know exactly where he is, so he's got that much going for him."

"...oh," Flint says weakly.

You slowly step away from Flint's shadow. You Mimic a humanoid form, more or less a man, if dark and wispy. <You have my thanks, Kirt,> Shadow says. <I was glad our confrontation with Rogul ended peaceably.>

Kirt stares at you. "...that's some trick." He shrugs, then smiles. "Well, I figured if a knight and a sorceress burning with light were traveling along with a shadow mage, they couldn't be all bad. Just keep your nose clean. Rogul's not the type to make empty threats, and I'd prefer not to get kicked out of Refuge."

"So what's a human doing in an orc settlement, anyway?" Auriel asks.

"Long story." Kirt turns to leave the room. "You should relax. Tarun Gakth isn't easy traveling, even if you didn't run into much trouble. I'll see you at dinner."

<About...my presence,> you begin.

"Didn't see a thing," Kirt says. They door clumps closed. You hear footsteps as he returns down the stairs.

Auriel glances at you and Flint. "...he's not normal. I'm quite curious as to his story."

"Well, it's none of our business," Flint says. "If he tells us, he does. Until then, I think our best bet is to enjoy having beds for the night and move on at the crack of dawn."

"...I'll be keeping one eye open," Auriel says. "I doubt all the orcs like strangers."

Flint makes a face, but he nods. "It's not a bad idea to keep our guard up."

Your companions unpack, though they keep their true valuables on their person. You decide your purse and its assorted contents are best kept with you, as well.

Flint directs Joey to take care of the horses, and he and Auriel set out to take a look around the city. It's an old place, crumbling at the edges, but you find it appealing in its own way. Orcs dot the cliffs and stairs here and there, going about their daily lives.

<Are such places common?> you ask Auriel.

"...we're aware of the orc clans," she says. "We don't have the resources to root them out. And even if we did, they aren't hurting anyway."

<I knew you could be reasonable.>

"This and the Shadow are two different things," she says sharply.

"Would the two of you stop?" Flint asks. "Light. Let it rest for a day."

Auriel pouts at him. "He started it."

Flint rolls his eyes.

Auriel frowns, then glances at you in Flint's shadow. "...actually...are you a he, or a she? Or an it?"

<...I do not identify with your split of genders,> you say. <It seems as though...it is, -right-, for beings such as humans, and orcs. But I am simply different.>

Auriel shrugs, and you continue on.

Eventually, you reach an interesting rock formation. Part of the river is diverted by a high stone levee, which pools in a wide basin. The basin itself is capped on one end by a large wooden house. Orcs move in and out of the building, going in dirty and coming out clean. Another small stream leads back out of the house and down into the river.

"Public baths," Flint says. "They're more civilized than I expected." His next words are murmured more to himself than you or Auriel, but, resting in his shadow, you can still hear him. "...maybe an alliance is closer than the duke realizes..."

Auriel grins at the building. "Dear Hyperion, a bath is exactly what I need. Excuse me, boys. I've some grooming to take care of."

<I just finished telling you I'm not a - >

Auriel waves a hand at you. "Ah, whatever. You and Flint are too much the friends for me to think of you like a girl. I'll be back..." She flips her hair out and starts walking. "Oh, when I feel like it. Before sundown. Probably. Try and do something useful in the meantime."

A few orcs give her looks as she enters the female section of the baths, but Auriel unabashedly continues inside, still clad in her armor.

<Her armor is going to rust, like that.>

Flint sighs. "She's not going to bathe in her armor, Shadow."

<Ah. So she'll be naked, then?>

"...well...that is how people bathe."

<It's also how people copulate."

"Dammit, Shadow." Flint turns around to face you, his shadow. "We need to have a talk about that. A good, long, informative -discussion-, because you're slowly killing me with my own embarrassment."

<She's attracted to you, and stripping herself naked for bathing within that house,> you say, <after pointedly informing us of her destination. The situation seems clear to me.>

"...what are you getting at?"

<She is readying herself for you and your imminent copulation.>

"...t-that's ridiculous. I - she - there's no - "

<You heard it from her own lips,> you add. <She's grooming. Preening herself for sexual display. And I don't see any other demon-slaying knights around here. Do you?>

"Well...I mean, you and her did most of the - "

<This is an excellent time to give her your opinion on her kiss. With the stipulation that you imbibe no more than three ignorance potions each. Or this time, I shall leave you both to bask in your own vomit without assistance.>

"That..." Flint trails off. He bites his lip. He looks back at you. "...do you really think she feels like that?"

<Of course. At this rate, I'll be an expert on human mating rituals.>

Flint slaps his face. "...for a moment, you were reeling me in. No. No. No."

<Yes.>

"NO!"

"No, what?" Kirt asks.

Flint jumps. You stiffen in surprise. Kirt has snuck up behind you without so much as a whisper to hive him away.

You're not sure if you're entirely comfortable with that.

"...ah...Shadow...and I...were discussing..."

Kirt grins widely. "You got a thing for sweet tits and blonde hair?"

"Uh...well...that's not exactly how I'd - "

<Yes,> you say. <That's exactly it. He just doesn't admit it to himself.>

"Ha!" Kirt punches Flint on the arm. "The cultured nobleman, seduced by the free-spirited witch?"

"...not exactly."

Kirt's big smile fades. His face goes blank for a moment. He shakes himself, and pats Flint's shoulder. "Well, no sense being nervous. How about a spar? We can go to my place."

"I thought you lived in that tavern."

"Ah, Olga lets me stay there when I get drunk. I'm her bouncer," he explains. "My place is up on the cliffs. Come on, I'll show you." He starts off at a quick pace. Flint stands there for a moment, then shrugs and follows. You're dragged behind...

You climb a long set of stairs that winds around a steep plateau. Flint keeps pace with Kirt without problems, despite his heavy armor. "...you know, don't you think her hair's more silver?"

"Eh," Kirt says. "White blonde, silver. Same difference."

"Ah."

You reach the top of the plateau. Flint stops to stare out, and you stare with him.

Surrounding you is an endless forest of stone. The moon hangs in the sky as the afternoon steadily transitions to dusk. Kirt's abode is impressive. A cave is carved into the wall of the plateau, but perched higher are several smaller shacks clustered around one house.

"This is all yours?" Flint asks.

"Took some time to build," he says. "...I like the orcs. Fierce. Independent. This is a nice spot, too. A bit lonely...but out in the wind. Exposed." He points a thumb over his back. "Shacks are for storage, mostly. Sometimes I hunt the animals out in the gorges. Sell the skins, and the meat. A few guest rooms, too." He draws a short sword, and a knife. "...so...want to play around a bit?"

Flint rubs his helmet. "Well..." He smiles. "Maybe just a little." Flint draws his two-handed blade. "Clean?"

"As a whistle," Kirt says.

You step out of Flint's shadow.

The two men clash swords for a moment, slipping and sliding past each other. Flint does well...

...but suddenly, his foot catches on a rut in the stone. He tumbles down.

Kirt laughs, and offers him a hand up. Flint takes it and stands straight. "Aww, come on!"

Flint's face isn't amused. But he sets himself again.

They spar a moment longer. Kirt dives in close, using the maneuverability of his shorter weapons to his advantage. His hands move in a blur, independent of one another. His knife reverses directions almost faster than Flint can give ground.

Flint trips and falls on his butt. Kirt taps his shoulder with his short sword, then helps him up again. "You need to work on your footing."

Flint's jaw grinds. But then, he sighs. "Yes, I do."

Kirt seems to sense his frustration. He loses a bit of his cheer. "...sometimes, things just don't work out the way you'd like them to."

"I can relate to that."

They stand in silence for a moment. Kirt walks toward a fire pit in the middle of his plateau abode. He wordlessly begins to build a fire.

Flint walks over and sits. Soon, the two men are laying back in front of a fierce flame. You sit next to them.

<We encountered a large golem, earlier,> you say. <Do you know anything about them?>

"The Dwarven machines?" Kirt asks. "They're all mad. Attack anything they find. I'm surprised you lived to tell the tale. But I don't know about them much, no. Why?"

You shrug. <Curiosity.> You look at him. <You mentioned a sage, earlier.>

"Taremtis. A mage. Human. Lives out here. He's even madder than the machines, and that's saying something. But he likes travelers. I think. He'll probably point you in the right direction. Did for me."

"What direction was that?" Flint asks.

"To stay here," Kirt says quietly.

"...how long have you been here?"

"Two and a half years, just about," Kirt says. He glances down at the flames. "...seems like yesterday I got here."

Flint clears his throat. "I apologize if I was prying."

"...it's not really any secret," Kirt says. "I...there was some trouble, back home. I was forced to run. Ended up here. If it wasn't for Taremtis, never would have been...accepted, by the orcs, I suppose. He and Rogul go waaay back. Rogul's clan is originally from the Great Forest, and Taremtis used to be with Archon. Don't know much more than that, though."

"What did the sage tell you?"

"...he told me to rest here," Kirt said. "The way he said it...it was as if the very foundation of the world spoke through him. You just knew it was true." Kirt sighs. "And that's probably the only lucid thing I've gotten from him since. He's an amusing fellow, but I wish he'd crack open a bit more." Kirt looks over. "What about you? Knightly honor, and all that?"

"More or less," Flint says. "When I met the girl I mentioned...I believe her parents had already died. Her village was cursed was a magical plague."

"I thought you said you promised them you'd protect her."

"I made that promise on their graves," Flint says.

"...I see. You're a good man, Sir Flint."

"...I don't think so."

"I do," Kirt says. "Me...I ran away from my problems. I've made my peace with that. But you're sprinting through Tarun Gatkh to find yours."

"I never really thought of it like that."

The men fall quiet.

<What would you both say to another spar?> you ask.

"I'm game," Kirt says.

"I suppose," Flint answers.

You stand up. <I'll take you both at once.>

"Overconfident, are we?" Kirt says. He saunters to the edge of the fire and draws his sword and knife.

Flint stands, but he hesitates. "...that's a bit ambitious, Shadow."

<I realize something,> you say. <I've never practiced combat before. How can I hope to improve without pushing my limits?>

Flint smiles, and draws his sword. "Training...that, I can understand."

Flint and Kirt charge you from both sides.

They work their blades in a flurry. It's difficult for you to keep up. You have plenty of arms, and you're fast, and your skin is as hardens steel - but despite your seeming advantages, they work together as if they can read each other's mind.

Flint's attacks are brutal. His sword swipes are extremely heavy, but compact. He flows from one strike into another, hitting, hitting, hitting, over and over and over like a blacksmith on an anvil.

Kirt is entirely different, but frighteningly complementary. His sword is like the tail of a scorpion, and his dagger is like a darting fang. He begins to swing one way, only to change direction and go the other. He slashes his sword up, and his knife stabs in. He cuts high, and swipes slow. His hands each have a will of their own.

You lose ground to these swordsmen alarmingly quickly...

You dig in and whip your arms faster.

It pushes you to your limit, but you're an even match for the two men. You hold your ground, not just defending against their strikes, but whipping randomly, striking at their legs and arms to cut off the source of their blows. That cuts off their momentum.

But the duel could go either way...

You're so focused on keeping them at bay, you don't realize there's a plan unfolding before you.

Suddenly, Flint and Kirt leap back, then, just as suddenly, lunge forward, switching places. They knock your limbs away faster than you can adapt. Their swords reach your body, prodding you ever so slightly.

"Our win!" Kirt says. Flint just smiles.

<I yield.>

The two withdraw their swords and sheath them. They're both sweaty, but they seem happy. They take their breaths in big gulps. "...should do that again some time," Kirt says.

"Was kinda...fun, huh? Haven't trained like that in a while." Flint begins to move away, then promptly trips and falls flat on his face.

Kirt bursts out laughing and slaps his knees. "You go that whole damn fight, and then just fall over...what in the Light, Flint"

"...oh...shut up." Flint dusts himself off. He looks around at the darkened sky. "...we should get back. Joey and Auriel are probably missing us."

Kirt winks. "Little cleanup for the lady, at least. I've got some water."

Kirt directs Flint to several barrels of water in one of his sheds, and they douse themselves to clean the grime and odor away.

<...perhaps...I should clean, as well.>

Flint looks at you, then shrugs. "You never seem to get dirty. And you don't smell. I don't think you have to."

You promptly decide to splash into the water bucket, spraying Kirt and Flint with water. They shield themselves. You bob up and down in the water, sloughing it all over them.

"Hey!" Flint says. Kirt's just laughing.

You emerge from the water and wring it from yourself as if you're a giant washcloth. Then you stand straight. <Nice and clean.>

Flint snorts, then dries his face with a towel. Kirt keeps laughing.

>no, you cannot spar whenever you want to grind exp, that was a special event

Kirt lends Flint a spare set of clothes. They're more rustic than what Flint usually wears, but he doesn't hesitate to don them. They both head back down the plateau.

"So what's the deal with you and sweet tits?" Kirt asks. "And I mean that in the most serious way possible."

"Honestly, I don't have any idea anymore," Flint says. "I mean...she's...beautiful."

Kirt rolls his eyes.

You look at Kirt. <Don't be fooled by his false modesty. He wishes to climb her like a tree and gaze upon her Hyperion-blessed features. She wishes to know how to bed a demon slayer. Of course, the nature of their having sexual intercourse was put this way after they'd imbibed quite a few -beers-, so I hardly know what to think.>

Kirt bursts out laughing so hard you're briefly worried he'll fall from the stairs. But he rights himself. "...Shadow...you've got a real sense of humor."

"It doesn't know what a sense of humor is," Flint growls.

<I certainly do.>

"I'm inclined to agree with the blob," Kirt says. "So, Shadow. They want to fuck?"

<Both have expressed a want for copulation, but have subsequently denied these claims when confronted about them more openly. It's rather confusing.>

Kirt nods sagely. "People can be confusing."

<So I've learned. I think more ignorance potions will help. In moderation. Strict moderation.>

"Ignorance potions?"

"That's what it calls alcohol," Flint mutters.

Kirt chuckles. "Hey. While we're on the subject. Sort of." He looks at you. "What the fuck are you, exactly? A demon?"

<I don't know,> you answer honestly. <I have not long been in this world. I have some suspicions. An intelligent lesser elemental is probably the most accurate description. But...it doesn't matter.>

"It doesn't?" Kirt asks. "I'd say that's pretty damn important."

<Maybe. But I have begun to believe that -what- I am is much less important than -who- I am.>

Your companions go quiet. After a while Kirt nods. "...you have me there. You have me." He leans back and throws an arm around your 'shoulder'. "So. We getting by buddy Sir Flint laid, or what?"

<If by laid, you are referring to copulation, then yes. But I've been trying, and it hasn't gone very well.>

"That's because you didn't have me."

"Just keep talking like I'm not here," Flint says loudly. "It's not like I have feelings or anything. I'm just a giant cock, ready for copulation."

"Now, Flint, that's not fair," Kirt says. But he has to spit the words through his grin. "The Shadow's just trying to help out."

"It's helped enough."

<She is attracted to you,> you tell him. <If you reciprocated her affection, you could - >

"And how would a genderless shadow that's spent the past week arguing with her about the nature of the universe know if she's attracted to me?" Flint asks.

<She told me so.>

Flint gives you a look. "Oh really? And what did she tell you?"

<She told me that she likes the way you stand. You stand like a man with a heavy burden...but one that bears it without complaint. She told me that you're handsome, and that your feats in battle impressed her greatly. And that you swept her off her feet. I'm afraid I don't know the meaning of that euphemism, but it sounds positive.>

"...you're not..."

<She said those words exactly,> you say.

You reach the bottom of the stairs. The noise of Olga's tavern increases as you approach across Refuge. Flint looks between the two of you. "...I just...I couldn't...if it turns out that things aren't - "

Kirt interrupts Flint with a huge sigh. "Dammit, man, just grow a pair."

<She is merely waiting for you to act,> you say.

"...alright." Flint's face firms up. "Ok."

"Heeey!" Kirt slaps Flint on the back. "There's a champ!"

"But I need a stiff fucking drink. Several."

<I will not pick up the pieces again if you overindulge,> you warn.

"Ah, don't worry," Kirt says. "He knows better, unless he wants limp dick."

<What is -limp dick-?>

Kirt doubles over with laughter, and he doesn't stop. Eventually, he's half-hanging off Flint, pounding the larger mans shoulder.

Flint looks like angry granite. "...sometimes, Shadow, you just need to shut the fuck up."

<Well. See if I carry you to bed a third time.>

You reach the entrance of the bar. "Well. Here goes." Flint pushes the door in.

<I will remain in your shadow,> you tell Kirt.

"Sounds good. Wouldn't want to miss the show, would ya?"

You burst into the tavern. This late, it's packed with orcs. Most of them are loudly carousing and banging thick mugs on their tables. Slight fangs curl up the edges of their lips.

<I think it best we let Flint do this himself,> you say. <I know he isn't much without my help, but he can't expect me to hold his hand forever.>

Kirt looks like he's struggling not to give in to his convulsing abdomen as he returns a near-chorus of waves and greetings from the tables.

"EH KIRT!"

Kirt reaches up and catches a thrown glass without even looking. Olga is staring at him from behind the bar. Other members of the help are scurrying to keep up with the orders for food and drink. "Make yourself useful and dry a few glasses!"

Kirt leans up against a post a short distance from where Auriel is sitting at a table, awkwardly alone in the middle of the bustling room. You focus your senses and detect Joey up in the room, likely asleep. He's put out a lot of energy lately.

Flint is quick to join her. She immediately perks up from her mug and smiles.

Flint hesitantly begins some conversation.

Auriel chirps in happily. You have difficulty making out the words over the noise of the bar, but in-between Flint trying not to blush every other moment, it seems to be proceeding fine.

<Like watching a bird leave the nest,> you remark to Kirt.

He snorts into the cup. He raises it up, rubs a bit of snot off the inside of the cup, then shrugs. "Meh, I'm healthy" He grabs another mug the counter and keeps drying.

Flint and Auriel share a drink, then two, then three. And a fourth. You really hope they don't go for a fifth.

But your worries were baseless. They linger on the fourth drink for some time.

Auriel has leaned in further and further toward Flint the entire night. Flint looks a lot more relaxed. His nerves are settled.

Flint picks her hand off the table and holds it in his. Auriel smiles at him. She leans very close. The intent is clear...

...something passes over Flint's face.

You bend your senses toward him, toward the parasite. But...it's quiet, tonight, for once. It isn't moving.

Flint brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. He says something to her, then stands and walks out of the bar. Auriel sits back with a stunned look on her face.

She rises. Her hands clench. Eyes follow her as she marches across the floor after Flint.

"...hmm," Kirt says. "What do you think?"


<I think it's going well,> you say.

"If she's that determined," Kirt mutters near the cup, "I can't believe he hasn't fucked her already."

<Flint isn't the type to jump at happiness. I think...his past holds him back. He's lost too much to jump, anymore. He's tired of it.>

Kirt's swirling cloth slowly stops. The man stares into his mug. "...yeah? Too bad." He clumps the upteenth mug down. "Break," he shouts into the kitchen. One of the serves waves at him in acknowledgement. Kirt steps out of the bar.

Flint and Auriel aren't in sight, though you can feel two sources of life down closer to the river. Kirt heads the other way, behind the tavern. He leans against the rock and folds his arms. His good cheer seems to have vanished.

<...did I say something?>

"...no. Just the past, Shadow."

<It always seems to be the past, with everyone,> you say. <Doesn't anyone look forward?>

"That's easy to say, when you don't have much of a past," Kirt says. "When you do...it's like a rock in an ocean, something you cling to, myabe just to have something to hold. But it's a rock made out of shards of glass. So rather than getting dashed against the cliffs, you're just bleeding to death. Slowly."

<It doesn't sound much better than dying.>

"You know why I live on a plateau, Shadow?"

<...why?>

"So I can stand at the edge and ask myself that question, every light-damned day." He looks back at you. "So far...I've been too afraid of death to jump."

<In my short time I have been hunted, burned, shunned, and called a monster. I have been told that, inevitably, I am evil. That this evil is an intrinsic part of me. That my actions, even if good, mean nothing, because on the larger scale of things, my very existence will cause chaos and harm to others.>

"And?"

<And I choose to live and find a way.>

"Good for you, Shadow," Kirt says. "We've discovered that those without a past have nothing but the future. Sounds nice."

<Let's go see this sage of yours.>

"...Taremtis? Now?"

<Yes. If you think our arrival here might jolt him into lucidity, then let us see. Perhaps he'll have more words for you, as well.>

Kirt says nothing for a moment. Then he leans up off the stone and walks into a back door of the tavern.

The kitchen is a mess of dishes and activity. Orcs call and shout to one another. It's a harsh contrast to the stark silence of the alley you sat in just before. Kirt finds Olga quickly. "Hey lady."

"I'm no lady. What do you want, you layabout?"

"...night off."

Olga leans back. She eyes Kirt for a long time. "...you haven't asked me for a off time in...ever."

"First time for everything."

"I sure as Light hope not," Ulga sighs. "Alright, get out of here."

Kirt ducks back through the kitchen and starts up toward the other end of refuge.

The cliffs become more wild and jagged. The relatively neat, carved stone of the Dwarven ruins fades into rocky paths. You're on the border of the Tarun Gakth wilderness.

But you continue to climb, up, up. Not as high as Kirt's plateau, but high enough to poke above the walls of some of the canyons. A star-covered sky twinkles high above you.

You reach the edge of the path.

Perched on the end, leaning out precipitously over a deep gap are two haphazard towers. Bridges and wood and rope connect the buildings, as it it was half-planned and half slapped together by a child playing with blocks. A fat wooden sign reading "Taremtis" points into the first tower.

<...why the sign?>

"Didn't want anyone to miss him."

You peer further into the buildings. Something is flying in the air around them...a group of things with wings, like chickens. But they're in the air, and they're much lighter-looking.

They circle the tower once, twice, three times, drifting, flapping. The Sky-Sever should have long struck them down by now.

<What are those flying things?>

"They're called birds," Kirt says. "Taremtis raises them. There used to be a lot more, all across Venia. A type of animal that could fly in the sky, believe it or not."

The idea seems...totally unfamiliar. You've never heard of such a thing. <Strange.>

"The Sky-Sever killed them off," Kirt says. He walks forward on the path and up to the tower door.

If this mage's magic can resist the Sky-Sever...he must be powerful.

Shadow Quest Chapter 24

Kirt walks up to the first tower, picking his way across a narrow stone bridge. He ducks under an ornate overhang and knocks on the door. "Anyone home?"

There's no response.

Kirt knocks again. "Hey, old man! Are you awake?"

The door flies open. Standing there is a man in blue and gray robes. He has a thick beard that droops over his neck, and wears a pointed hat. In his hand is a twisted wood cane. "The hell do you want you bothersome piece of shit?!"

"...well," Kirt says. "Refuge has a few visitors. You've mentioned interest in visitors, should any come, so - "

"VISITORS?!" The old man roars. He crouches low and peers out from under the wide brim of his hat. "Peeeeeople?"

"Well..." Kirt clears his throat. "Not exactly."

<Greetings, sage,> you say. You stand independent of Kirt's shadow. <I am - >

"A SHADOW...!" Taremtis cries. His voice drifts down to a whisper. "...elemental? Oh, that's not good, not good at all. Not good. Good, not."

<It isn't?>

"I never saw or heard a worse thing since my diarrhea two weeks past!" He declares. Taremtis abruptly stands and looks at Kirt. "You know, one of my birds died the other day. Her name was Cawly." His eyes water over with emotion. "Poor, sweet, beautiful Cawly. She was the most wonder dove...feathers like white snow...oh..." Taremtis grips his cane and shouts into the night. "CAWLY!!!! WWHHHYYYY??!!"

For a few seconds, the tail end of his moan echos back off the canyon walls, then eventually fades.

<...is he alright?>

"...told you he was insane," Kirt mutters out of the corner of his mouth. "Probably wouldn't last a month if I didn't bring him food every week."

"A month?!" Taremtis says. "A fine estimation of my independence! I'll beat that, I say! Don't bring me food for a month, let's see how I fare."

"Let's not."

"I don't need some idiot boy telling me when and how I can't starve myself! Get out, and come back with all the visitors, or don't come back at all!" Taremtis mutters a stream of curses under his breath as he turns and slams his tower door shut.

<Well. That was...interesting.>

"Stark, raving mad," Kirt says. It seems the experience of the sage has brought him back out of his depresses reverie. "A nice fellow, though, if you catch him in the mood. Well...what do you say to coming back tomorrow morning, assuming out two lovers aren't tired from their big night?"

<I suppose it couldn't hurt,> you say.

"Good. I...hope you're right. Maybe this'll get him lucid again." Kirt starts back down the path.

<You weigh what he has to say quite heavily, despite him being...mentally handicapped.>

"...kinda funny, isn't it?"

Kirt doesn't add to his statement, so you let the subject drop. He makes his way back toward Refuge proper.

<I wonder if Flint will stumble in bed.>

Kirt rubs his nose. "Let's hope not, hmm?" He glances at you. "Why? Are you a voyeur or something?"

<What's a voyeur?>

"Person that gets off watching other people get it on."

You nod in understanding. <I see. Actually, the last time I tried to watch them copulate, I was not aroused to any such acts myself. But overall, it didn't work out well.>

Kirt bursts into laughter. He doubles over and slaps his legs. "Now THAT sounds like a story I need to hear. But I guess we'll leave them to it, huh?"

By the time you near Kirt's plateau home, it's very late at night.

You decide to stick with Kirt, sitting in shadow as he walks home. <I think I've done enough harm in my ignorance for one day.>

Kirt snorts. His feet clod up the stairs. "I didn't realize you were aware of your own lack of tact."

<It's become clear, over time. I have as much to learn about humans as I do about myself.>

"So do we all, Shadow."

He sits down heavily near the embers of the fire. After a few moments work, he starts it up again. The flame quickly grows to a healthy size.

You notice something in his clothes. That roll of red cloth pinned to his waist seems to almost reflect the firelight...it's odd.

<That red cloth at your waist is strange,> you say.

"This?" Kirt grabs the bundle off his waist. "Check this out."

He wraps the cloth over his forearm and holds it around himself. It's not quite big enough to cover his whole body, almost a cape more than a cloak. What appears to be a ram's face with long, curled horns is imprinted in black in the middle of the cape.

And yet, suddenly, it's as if he's vanished. His fiery soul is simply gone; his life force isn't there. He still sits there, easily visible, but invisible to all other senses.

<Incredible. I sense nothing.>

"...a certain treasure of mine." He wraps it up and pins it back in place in a quick, deft motion. "Something from home."

<Where are you from?>

"...far away," he says.

<I am surprised...you do not fear me.>

Kirt shrugs. "The empire's propaganda grows weak beyond its own borders."

<What do you think the orcs would make of me?>

"They'd judge you as you presented yourself," he says. "They're an enclosed people, stubborn, and distrusting. But for good reason. They were created by Archon during one of its wars with the empire, as weapons, enhanced humans. Orcs are highly magic resistant, and they heal quickly, if they're given time to rest. Valuable skills, indeed. But they were treated as slaves."

<I see.>

"Rogul's clan escaped into the forests, and then eventually sough refuge here." He shrugs. "I you can get your foot in the door, they're fair. Hard, but fair. I was lucky enough to do so." He sighs. "It's probably better for you to stay undisclosed, at least for now. We'd have to explain to Rogul that he'd taken on one more person than he realized. And...they get real bothered by magic, when they think it might be aimed at them."

<Yes.> You decide to change the subject. <Is there anything I can hunt nearby? Preferably, something magical.>

"...not really," Kirt says. "Canyon lizards. A few Deep Hounds prowl the mushroom grove under the city every once in a while, but they aren't magical either. If you need food, I suppose either one will do."

<Feel like joining me?>

"Not really. I've had enough for one day, I think."

<Alright. Come meet with us tomorrow.>

"Sure. I'll be in the tavern."

You walk back down the plateau. Curious about Flint and Auriel, you cut near the tavern. It's died down significantly, now that it's really late. You sense several souls floating up in the rooms above the bar. Joey, on the top of the bunk...and Flint, sleeping below him. Auriel is in her own room.

Hmm.

You walk toward the entrance to the inner city you spied earlier and slip within. It's quiet, and empty. You follow the carved stone halls along, and head down.

Soon, you reach a wide, expansive chamber. It's damp and reeks of mold...the rock between the chamber and the river must be thin. Huge mushrooms dot the floor like a small forest. They have stalks tough enough to pass as tree bark.

You creep between the mushroom stalks, heading toward the back of the cave, where the dark turns as thick as pitch and more holes open up below.

The dark poses no problem for you.

When you sense a flicker of life, you wait.

Sure enough, hounds emerge. They're not like any dogs you've seen. Their eyes are slits, buried under thick, frowning lids. Their ears are perked high like a rabbits, and wide as dinner plates. They approach a mushroom stack and begin to gnaw at it. It seems they like the bark.

They don't notice you at all.

You pierce four of them with your shadows and consume them in an instant. The rest scamper back into the lower caves.

You feel satisfied. Perhaps you've hunted enough for one night?

...but something is...off.

It's below you. But indistinct.

You wander into the deep.

It's dark. Stiflingly, excruciatingly dark.

You feel right at home. The darkness might as well be light itself.

You come to a broken bridge. You hop over to the other side and keep walking, taking a good look around the cave. It's strange...a mix of natural rock and intentionally carved paths, blended together. You can't tell where nature ends and architecture begins.

The feeling grows in your senses. Shadows. You move more quickly, certain there's something important to find.

A hole grabs at your attention. Yes. That way. You drop inside.

It's like going down a slide. You end up in a new chamber. Round, relatively small, but very high. You can see other holes and paths branching out in other directions. You carefully note the one you emerged from.

Before you lies a door. On either side of the door sits an intimidating-looking golem, both heavily armored and wielding spiked maces as big as a man. They are as statues.

You approach the door. Words are carved into it...words you can understand.

"I begin in fog, but long and dark, distended;
Middling I linger, small and silent;
By the time I fade, again I am great."

"Speak my name, and enter."

"I...am Shadow," you say aloud.

Silence.

A pulse of magic shoots through the rock.

A long, groaning creek cracks the rust on the hinges of the door as it begins to open. Metal shrieks on metal, and you can hear the strain of gears about to break from age.

Slowly, the stone settles to a halt. A flash of magic pulses across the arch of the stone, and you hear a deep, thundering click.

Beyond the two doors is a blacker sort of darkness.

It feels...like you.

You enter the dark place.

Something...isn't right.

The feeling is strange. It's like walking through a curtain of rain...water stained with shadow.

But oddly, it doesn't feel bad. Rather...it acknowledges you. You feel somehow refreshed.

The room within is dark.

A spiral staircase leads down. You follow them.

The feeling of darkness grows stronger, and stronger. Finally, you reach the bottom of the stairs. There's a wooden door. You open it.

The rusty hinges break off completely. You leap back, surprised, as the door falls inwards. A clod of dust puffs off the floor and around the room.

You slink inside.

Sitting in the middle of the room is what appears to be a well...and within the well is a pool of darkness.

A mana pool - of your own element.

But that strange feeling still persists...it feels like you...but it isn't you.

You spread out your senses. This time, you truly Focus.

There's something underneath everything...energy. Mana. You peel back the first layer...and the world comes alive.

The pool of mana beams at you like a dark sun. Your power core spins with earth magic. Your enchanted pen almost seems to squirm and vibrate in its pouch. The shard of the sword you carry wavers and mists.

Something that feels just like it lies across the room, behind what appears to be a statue similar to the two you saw outside.

To your left...far in the shadows..is a presence. It wavers, hovers...watching. It -is- shadows. Lonely, silent shadows.

Before you investigate this...presence...it would probably be best to revitalize your mana.

You touch the mana pool.

The essence of your being resonates with this darkness.

You feel like a bell. Ringing...

HUUM

Ringing...

HUUUMMM

Something is different.

The mana around you...you could change it, if you wanted to. You could change a soul. Change...

You turn toward the shadowy presence.

It lingers against the wall...flat...emotionless. It is stained with something unique...you...but not you.

Loneliness seeps from it in a wave, thick in the air.

Isolation.

You raise yourself up. <My greetings.>

The presence tenses slightly, but does not move.

<Can you understand me?> There's no response. It sits there, watching you.

Words don't seem to work. Perhaps images will.

You send it an impression of it being alone with the door shut. The door swinging open, and an image of you enters. You send the feeling of loneliness washing away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMVNnzd2uA4

...you send the image...but it's as if that warmth you ended it with is swallowed whole by the shadow.

Absorbed.

Sucked in.

It cocks its head at you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wi1A8Bu9cvI

The shadow stares at you.

Loneliness rolls out from it. Alone. Darkness. Nothing.
Alone.
Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

<STOP!>

The shadow lunges at you!

You slam into it with half your body.

It's flung across the room...

...and slams into the statue of the golem. The golem doesn't move, but the Shadow is up in an instant. Arms pop out from its form, twisting, contorting. It begins to crawl forward toward you, slavering with a chomping mouth!

You stick your arm in the mana pool...

...and throw your strongest spell at it.

Your Shadow Assault slams into the shadow...but the spikes of magic roll around it, or simply disappear. It has no affect!

But when it's about to reach you, your water strike catches it straight on, blowing it back against the wall. You lash it with a spirit whip for good measure, slicing off once of its arms.

It doesn't bleed, but ragged shadows protrude into the air. It shrieks and claws at the wound. You draw all the power you can, and throw Binds of spirit at it, wrapping it up as tightly as you can.

A grind of steel and rock snaps your attention to the side. The golem is coming alive!

The shadow struggles with your binding...but it's shifting. Inking! It won't be held long.

You leap onto the shadow, clawing, punching, tearing. Still trying to extricate itself from your bind, it's caught helpless. You reduce it to a quivering heap of shredded shadow in moments.

You never see the golem's blow coming.

A giant mace slams into you from behind, and now it's your turn to fly across the room. You slam into the far wall hard enough to crack the stone.

You stand, dazed from the strike. Meanwhile, the golem grinds the remains of the other shadow into dust with a few massive blasts of its mace.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBuT4CVH9xs

---------------
---------------

You cast Bind at full power.

Orange ropes snap out around the golem and wrap it up tight. Its brute strength strains against the weave, but for now, it holds without a problem.

You cast Nightflare.

The world around you resounds with a shock, as if time itself were jarred by your magic. The magic in the air warps and shudders. The cavern is cast in a negative of itself, light where it was shadow, shadow where it was light.

The image lasts only an instant. The golem starts and sputters wildly, the magic that keeps it animated struggling to maintain coherence.

You blast it with Shadow Assault. You send the spell at it again and again, cracking it, then breaking off its limbs, then shredding it to rubble. Your magic unravels and slams into the walls, sending a tremor through the room. Dust and rock trickles from the ceiling.

The golem is dead.

You remember the golems outside the doors to this chamber. You glance back to the wood door at the base of the stairs, but you don't detect any sounds or sense any magic that would indicate golems are coming. You sigh - but almost in regret, than relief. With this mana pool...your magic is strong. Perhaps you should devote more energy toward perfecting those abilities...

You hop over to the golem. A hint of life still flickers through its stone. You acidify it into your being.

You slide over to the shadow...

It lunges at you!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wi1A8Bu9cvI

You duck out of the way of the shadow and slam it with your limbs as it tumbles past. You feel like you've landed a heavy blow - and you do. It flies into the wall and slumps to the floor.

Cracks spiderweb up the walls of the chamber...the fight has done some damage.

But even as you watch, the Shadow picks itself off the floor. Shadows from around it are almost drawn in to its form, piecing it together, repairing it...its ability to regenerate is frighteningly fast. It shrieks at you in a wild rage.

You bind the shadow once again. This time, it dodges, flickering to the side...like a shadow. Your ropes of spirit constrict only air, and vanish.

But it's wide open for you follow-up attack.

Your water strike blasts it straight on, stunning it still. You unleash a flurry of spirit whips. Like you, it isn't weak to spirit...but your superior force prevails. One limb is bent the wrong way, then hacked off entirely. A leg follows, then another. Soon, it's just a writhing torso. You whip it a few more times for good measure, but even then, it's still regenerating, fast.

You tear into the shadow with claws bared at the end of a dozen limbs!

It tries to scamper away with its regrowing stumps, but it stumbles helplessly across the stone. You rip it in half!

The bigger half is STILL moving. You have to commend it for its persistence...

...but now, it's over.

You
Must
CONSUME

You roil over the shadow, and your essences latches on to it...

...and it latches on to you!

You roll over and over, fighting as you each try to outmaneuver the other in a battle of consumption. Your soul spikes down, and it fends off your attacks. It lashes back at you, but you absorb its attempts without trouble.

It's weakened from the fight. You slowly drain its energy...but most of it struggles on, desperately trying to get away!

You affirm your grip on the writhing shadow.

Its soul shrieks at you like a thousand voices screaming in pain.

You press on, absorbing it into your own body...taking its power for yourself. Taking everything. The loneliness bleeds into you...stark...cold...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZlEpb56OQY

Waves of loneliness pour over you.

Isolation.

Stronger for it.

Purer.

A shriek pours from the shadow.

Pours from you.

Pours from the darkness. You are the darkness. You are the things people cannot see. You are dread of fear. You are the sickening reek of paranoia.

You are Isolation.

<NO!>

You snap back your tendrils and roll away from the shadow. No. That's not right. That isn't right.

The core of the being sits on the floor in front of you. Even as you watch, bits of shadow gather around it.

You slam it with your limbs. You chop it to pieces. You pound it until you ache from striking the stone.

It still moves.

Slowly, slowly it regenerates. Then faster...it can't move, but its building momentum.

This thing...

...it just won't die!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q23j34wwPX0

---------
---------

You shrink back. A tingle of fear crawls up your spine as this indomitable enemy continues to grow back after being beaten down again and again.

...and you realize something.

You've been afraid of its loneliness - and yet it's exactly like you.

You lost everything. You have been on the brink of death time and time again...and time and again, you overcame. You grew stronger. You grew back!

This shadow is nothing to be afraid of. You are shadow...and it is you.

You blast it with a wave of Impressions, fighting its loneliness.

It shrieks back at you. A call like a lonely man, trudging through blizzard. The icy solace of Isolation is overwhelming.

You dig in and fight back. An image of you and Flint, slapping hands. And image of Joey riding on your shoulders. An image of a former angel turning her back on you to fight a common foe. The image of a shadow mage caught in emotion.

The image of a small girl with her arms wrapped around you, crying into your form.

And you cap this with power. An overwhelming darkness springing from a dynamo. You are not something cowed by loneliness. You are a force to be feared, to be respected.

<YOU WILL SUBMIT!>

For the first time, the Isolation cowers away from you.

<...where are you going?>

You step forward. You pin the Isolation to the wall. It is frozen, unable to move...alone.

<You are not alone.> You close the distance until you are touching the other shadow. <YOU ARE ME!>

The shadow cracks with purple energy. You twist your tendrils into the thing, plunging into it...not fighting...but merging...

The force makes the stone tremble...

You swirl together.

And then you are one shadow...

...greater than two apart.

Something rests inside you...

...a piece of something great.

You know not what it is...but you have a sense of what it could be. A solid bit of that untapped energy you gain from consuming souls...concentrated.

The room stills, and goes silent.

You are a being of darkness and shadows.

You move close to the back of the room.

Sitting in the alcove behind where the golem stood is a steel lockbox. Etched into its surface is a detailed vista of a sunrise matched against a setting moon.

You recognize it.

You withdraw the Sun-Moon key from your belt and raise it near the chest.

The key snaps over the chest. It glows briefly, the clinks onto the steal. You hear the latch click loudly.

You open the chest.

Lying on red velvet cushions are the shards of a sword. These aren't the solid sliver you found before...more smaller bits and pieces. A lot of them. Wavering shadow surrounds them...just like the other pieces.

You draw out the larger shard of the sword and move it near the tiny bits.

They leap to life before your eyes, arranging themselves in a long, lengthwise fashion. It all floats in midair. While unconnected and distance, the bits and pieces form the vague outline of what is unmistakably a colossal weapon. Unfortunately, you can't make out any more words...the largest fragment only reads: "-n, the void tw-"

You replace the shard in your pouch, and, conveniently, the bits and pieces fly in with it.

You take the opportunity to summon your wisp, considering you have access to a mana pool. A tiny gateway opens, and closes. The wisp flies out and buzzes around your head, then settles against your backside, well-concealed.

You focus your senses and check around the room.

The world flashes bright at you. The mana pool is as a sun...no, a brightened moon of shadow.

The inner glow of the golems up the stairs catches your attention, but they haven't budged. Good.

Something sees you.

You cut off your focus, surprised.

Something was looking back at you.

...it didn't feel particularly friendly.

Whatever that thing was...you're not sticking around to find out.

You dash up the stairs and stretch your arms to the ends of the open door. You heave to shut the gates on the mana pool.

The gates creak, groan, and then rapidly begin the close. As you bend them inward, it becomes easier, and you slam them shut hard.

A snap of magic flies over the doors. You hear the click of the lock, as you did when it opened.

You quickly dash up into the hole you slid down, climbing, clawing, evening flapping a few times to get back to the upper level.

Soon enough, you're back in the mushroom garden. You wander outside. The sun hasn't poked above the edge of Refuge's canyons, but it's starting to get light.

You head up into Flint's room. He and Joey are still sound asleep. Joey is snoring slightly.

You sense that Auriel is awake. She seems to be moving about her room, probably dressing.

You feel as though something in you has shifted...you could hold a shape. Not just a shape, but an appearance. Whatever your imagination can think of.

...perhaps you'd like to appear as a human, to blend in?
...or something more intimidating. A shadow mage...with a decidedly otherworldly bent.

In any case, it's probably best you stay low-profile until you leave Refuge.

Undecided on a regular form, you bob over to Auriel's room.

What is it humans do at this point...?

Ah! Knocking.

You rap a Fist upon the door. <Auriel?>

There's a pause, and then footsteps approach the door. It opens. Auriel is fully dressed, and it seems as if she's working on getting her armor on. "...shadow."

What do you say?

<The others are still asleep.>

"So they are."


<May I come in?>

"...sure."

She backs away from the door. You close it behind you.

Not even a hint of argument. Now you're worried.

<...would you like some help with your armor?>

"...sure."

You buckle the plates and pads around her body, tightening each one firmly. She stands with her arms out, patiently waiting. You have the feeling this isn't a new experience for her.

<Not worried I'm going to stab you in the back?>

"...who cares," she says. "I'm not an angel anymore. I'm nobody."

<You don't sound like yourself.>

"I don't really feel like myself." She snorts derisively. "Correction. I'm not myself."

Oh, goodness.

<What do you mean?>

"...I don't know."

<You seem to be yourself as much as you were the day before...as far as I can tell.>

"Confirming, once again, that you have the sensitivity of a pebble!" Auriel snaps.

<What's wrong?>

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

<Because you haven't been that rude to me since the first few days of our traveling together,> you say. <...and because I encouraged Flint to confess his feelings for you...but you don't seem happy.>

"...his feelings..." Briefly, Auriel's face clenches. Her features twist in pain. But a hand is quick to hide her expression. "...there is someone else that holds his heart. He admitted he feels attachment for me...but that he cannot, in good conscience, allow that to sway him. He told me he doesn't deserve me. He told me that I belong back at the Ring City, helping the people, not out on the road with a cursed knight errant that's avoided his own home for years. He doesn't understand...my position. My feelings, he understands. And he's rejected them out of some damn sense of dignity. Fuck dignity!" She slams a fist against the walls. "I'm so tired of politics. Of society. Of everything. I just want...I don't know. I've no idea what I want."

<If he believes he knows where you belong better than you do, then he is a fool - albeit, a fool that cares for you.>

"...he does, Shadow. But his honor will not let him court another woman while his heart is elsewhere. And that just..." She trembles. "...makes me...even more..."

<Then why are you giving up?> you say. <You faced a demon lord alone. This is hardly the time to allow mere words to stop you.>

"I was an angel, then!" She shouts. "Now, what am I? Just another mage, at best."

<If you allow your lack of wings to define you, then you are not half the person I thought you were. What you are is not as important as what you choose to be.>

Auriel is silent for a long time. Eventually, she looks at you. She blinks rapidly, obviously holding in tears. "...thank you, for saying that."

<I've been saying that to you for days, now. For likewise, I do not believe my Shadow defines me. I am the Shadow, and the Shadow is as I choose - not the other way around.> You bob in place once. <Flint's heart may be distant, but with time, I believe you might draw it to yourself. And I think that will be a good thing, for you, and for him.>

Auriel glances away from you, but doesn't respond.

<Kirt asked me to bring yourself and Flint to meet with the sage after breakfast. I expect he'll meet us downstairs momentarily. I will see you then.>

You leave the room.

You wander into Flint's room.

After a time, he wakes, yawning. He stands, starts slightly at your presence. "...that you?"

<Yes.>

"...you sound...miffed."

<That,> you begin, <is an appropriate description of my state of feeling. Why did you not simply tell me you still had feelings for another woman? Did you think that wasn't important? I would not have pushed you so hard had I known. Auriel would not have had to build her hopes up.>

"It's a long story. I..." Flint glances at Joey's sleeping form, then lowers his voice. "...it is shameful, Shadow. I have not been home in six years. Not because I don't miss home, but because I can't bear to see my own family."

<Why not?>

"Because I am in love with my eldest brother's wife," Flint says, "and I chose to leave before I made a terrible mistake."

<...explain.>

Flint sits at the small table on the opposite side of the room. He speaks quietly. His gaze wanders across the floorboards, never resting in one place. "...Megan, is her name. As you know. A noble from a notable family Heavensgate, who came to our court when I was 16.

"I was...always somewhat of an outsider, in court. I couldn't keep my words straight. Two left feet. Now..." Flint clenches his fists. "...now I know why. But...whatever the case, I kept my own company. My father and...others...tried to encourage my social development, as was proper for a young man, but I couldn't take it. After your every public appearance carries with it an inevitable embarrassment...you give up.

"It's funny..." His eyes goes still. "...that's what drew me and Megan together. She came on an extended stay in the Dobshire court. It's common, when a girl needs to be wed off, to present in another court. Doubles as a sort of diplomat of the family." Flint waves a hand vaguely. "...she hated court. And she wasn't the prettiest girl...slender figure. Wispy. One day, I was practicing the sword, alone..." He makes a faint smile. "When I started tripping up, I knew someone was watching. I always figured it was performance anxiety, or something. Well, she complimented me on my craft...and made fun of me a bit, too. For some reason...she put up with my stuttering.

"In any case, we were fast friends. My brothers...ignored her, at the time. We took lessons together from the head wizard of Dobshire, and Flint family friend, Hemmelus. She was a talented healer, in fact.

"...I came to love her," he whispers. "I don't know when. I don't think I realized it, for a time. Until she grew a bit older, and her figure grew to match her inner beauty...and suddenly, I had competition on all fronts.

"I knew my father would approve. I can't remember how many times I tried to ask her...ask for her hand. I...couldn't, Shadow. I couldn't do it. Something stopped me. Close my throat. I nearly swallowed my own tongue, once. She had to fetch the herbalist for me because her magic wasn't working. I wasn't exactly injured. But you know...she turned down everything else. She waited for me. Always waited."

Flint hangs his head. "When I was 23, Gerald proposed to her. Politically...she couldn't refuse marriage to the heir to Dobshire, and essentially, Arland itself. She refused it, actually, but her father was quick to override that little rebellion. And then...it was done.

"I couldn't live with it, Shadow. I still loved her.

Flint finally looks at you. "...she loved me back. I could see it in her eyes. The pain. The longing. She came to me, not a week after the wedding. She asked me to take her away. She begged me to throw everything away and run away with her to Felnoir, and hide on the border of the Great Forest. She seemed convinced I'd make a fine ranger, and we could have new lives, free..."

Flint laughs. It's a cold laugh you've never heard from him. Cruel, and full of hurt.

"Of course...I couldn't do that. I told Hemmelus and my father I wished to travel, see the world. Restore glory to the line from which we're descended - Aeolus's order. So I did. I ran, because I didn't think I deserved her if I couldn't even muster the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. But that's just an excuse. I ran because I was a coward. All the more reason I didn't deserve her, really.

"And now...after not really doing all that much for six years...here I am," he says. "So, no. I cannot extend my heart to Auriel. I'd be giving her second-hand goods, you see. It's already torn to pieces."

You shake.

You tremble.

You tower above him.

Flint blinks and looks up at you, surprised.

<I DID NOT RISK MY EXISTENCE TO ASSIST SECOND-HAND GOODS!> you roar.

"...um...ok," Flint says.

You slowly drop back down. <Never. Never will I hear those words from you again - words that devalue your own life. Unless you mean to insult me, and our friendship.>

"...of course not."

<Then perhaps you should take your own advice,> you say. <How do you expect to move forward if you are always caught in the past? What happened then is done. You would ignore what lies before you, throw away opportunities in order sit and linger in times gone by?>

You step back from him. <I have heard heard foolish things before, Flint, but what you said was among the worst of them. The man who has found room in his heart for both light and shadow would never believe that this same heart was -second-hand goods-!>

Flint only stares.

<You have it backwards,> you say. <You made a choice. You decided that you wouldn't turn your back on your brother and destroy your family. You gave up love for that purpose, and you did what you had to do - you left your home. That is true courage. The coward's way out would have been to steal her away and run.

You slump slightly, feeling drained. You've had a long day. <...whatever you chose, Flint, I am your friend and ally. But I believe that the past is the past, and you should move on. You taught me that. Don't linger on the sunset behind you. Seize the rise of the moon before you.>

Flint swallows. For a long time, he's quiet. Eventually, he looks up at you.

"If someone told me that the best friend I would ever have would be a sentient shadow...I would have killed the fool and dumped his body on the side of the imperial highway," Flint says.

<Consider the body dumped.>

"...you're right," he says. "Light dammit. Light dammit, what the hell of the nether is wrong with me?!" Flint stands. "It's been six years, and I'm sitting here like a 16-year-old boy wetting my pants. Lords, what have I done. What have I done to that woman?"

Flint bursts out the the room.

You Ink out the window of Flint's room and sit on the roof.

The thatch roof, which doesn't not stop any sound from reaching you.

You here a knock. "High - Auriel, are you awake?"

A door creaks. "...Donovan. Good morning."

"Auriel...I - " Flint's voice stops. "...dammit...I...will...say...these...words!"

You hear panting. It sounds like Flint is struggling. You bend your senses forward.

The parasite is twisted around him like a python. Dammit.

"...forgive...a...idiot...I'm...so...stupid...Auriel..."

"...what are you trying to say?"

You ready an encouraging Impression...

...but Flint doesn't need it.

"...fuck...you...parasite!" Flint shouts. His light flares. "Auriel...what I said...I was wrong," he says. "I've been living...clinging, to the past. But I realized that what's in front of me is more important than things I've long since lost. So much more important." He goes quiet. "...I...beg your forgiveness...if you'll have it. I should never have...I..."

His words are cut off. You sense their souls hit the wall, at very close proximity. There aren't any more words. They stay like that for a rather inordinate amount of time.

After a bit, Flint's laughter drifts up through the thatching. You interpret that as a good thing.

They wander over and wake Joey, and the three of them head downstairs. You note a fiery soul wandering in the front entrance of the tavern.

You sit, and reflect.

Your companions are quite an interesting bunch.

But you feel that life is more interesting for their company.

You look to the rise of the sun over the canyon walls.

You're collecting the keys to the source of power under Jacob's Field...
...but why, exactly?

You're not sure. It feels like the right thing to do. You remember the voice that called Erebus's name...and can only believe that answers await you there.

Are you Erebus? You aren't sure.

What was that shadow you ate? It was a strong elemental...but it wasn't like the spirit elemental you encountered earlier. Something about it was different.

Flint's curse continues to endanger him. It must be removed. That has to be first priority. You need to find Adavan, and Abigail.

And the keys...you own one. The duke has another. There should be two more...one for wind, and one for fire. Perhaps Flint's family possesses the wind key, as he seemed to believe...but where would the fire key be?

You glance at the canyon walls. Where is Adavan heading?

And then, there's Ila. She's waiting for you in Heavensgate...to meet her alone, beneath a tree that blooms with black flowers.

And beyond that...who knows?

All things considered, you've got a lot on your plate.

Shadow Quest Chapter 25

You decide you've had enough conversation for one morning, and sit on the roof of the tavern and wait patiently.

After a time, Kirt, Flint, Auriel, and Joey walk outside. Your three companions gather their two remaining horses from the nearby stables. Joey and Kirt stay on foot. You slip into the shadow of Flint's horse.

<How was breakfast?>

Flint nearly falls out of the saddle. He heaves a breath and straightens. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"What, you didn't sense him?" Kirt asks.

Auriel gives Kirt a look. "He's rather thick-headed, at times."

"...oh..." Flint sighs, then grumbles something under his breath. Auriel chuckles, then flashes him a bright smile.

It's strange on her face. The past weeks, there's hardly been a moment she wasn't scowling. The grin steals away that firm, tense demeanor, the angelic agelessness...she seems, then, to just be a normal woman.

Flint notices. His grumbling subsides, and he smiles, too. Auriel puts her hand on his arm, and he takes up her hand, squeezing her fingers. Then he lets her arm drop, and they move their horses forward.

You slowly make your way up the cliffs toward Taremtis's towers. Joey is quiet, hands strung tight around his pack's straps. Kirt's face is set and grim. You wonder what he's thinking.

You wander up toward Taremtis's towers.

You reach the towers. The odd architecture assaults you once again - windows, arches and balconies strewn about at random, patched together like afterthoughts of other houses. A few birds flap about the stone. Others are perched here and there in nooks and crannies.

"...by Hyperion's light," Auriel whispers. "Those are birds."

"He raises them," Kirt grunts. "Sky-sever stops near his towers. Some spell he made up years ago, before he went totally insane."

Flint tears his eyes off the flying creatures and stares at Kirt. "...so, how mad is he, exactly?"

"Oh, benevolently addled," Kirt says. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"...if you say so."

You reach the door of the tower. Kirt moves forward...

The wood flies open. "AH!" The bearded sage stands before you. "VELERON! DRAGON-KIN, I KNEW YOU'D COME FOR ME ONE DAY! HAVE AT THEE!"

A bolt of green wind whips from Taremtis's finger. Kirt barely dodge. It cracks the bridge under his feet. "You old fool, it's me!"

Taremtis lets his hand drop. "Oh. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Kirt just sighs. "...are you going to let us come in, or are we to convene a hundred feet over the precipice?"

"Oh, come in! I've got tea, and cockroach guts, ground up for a spell, but I've got extra to spare if you care for it." He marches back into his house.

Kirt walks in immediately. Flint and Auriel exchange glances. Joey looks pale.

"...what do you think?" Auriel asks.

<What's the worst that could happen?>

"I can think of a few things," Auriel says.

<Knowledge is power. If you wish to wait outside, you may.> You walk through the door.

You hear a sigh, and the other three come in behind you.

The inside of the tower is surprisingly cozy. Tall shelves line the way all the way up the curved walls. Walkways and staircases crisscross the open air, providing access to the odd library. Some books, a desk and a few chairs float in midair. A globe soars over your heads and floats up into the middle of the room.

The bottom floor seems entirely compose of red velvet. There's a large wood table lined with red velvet chairs, all positioned on a red velvet carpet. Velvet also coats the walls where there aren't bookcases.

Kirt looks back at you. "Don't touch the books without permission. A wizard's prized possessions are not to be tampered with."

Taremtis emerges from an adjoining doorway with a wide tray. It rattles and shakes as he waltzes forward. He loses his grip on the tray. Most of the glass breaks on the floor. The liquid seems into the velvet.

He doesn't even break stride, waves a hand, and the liquid and shattered cups gather themselves up. The tray and glass all reassembles on the table. The liquids, which had gathered into balls in midair, pour themselves back into the appropriate locations. Kirt takes all of this in without much surprise and seats himself next to the head chair, which Taremtis has already taken.

The rest of your party shakes off their incredulity and moves in around the table. You take the last remaining seat. Green ooze sits in your cup.

You take a sip from the cup, with your pinky out. It tastes pond scum and rotting meat. This doesn't bother you in the slightest, and you drain the rest of it.

"Oh, another fan of cockroach?" Taremtis grins toothily. "Delectable, isn't it! It's all about the texture. Smooth, but with those little gooey hunks mixed in!"

You say nothing, because you're not sure what to say.

Auriel glances down at her own ooze-filled cup, then pointedly looks away. Flint and Kirt and Joey each sip from their tea. Taremtis himself downs his cockroach in one go.

"So," he says, "what did you want to talk about?"

Kirt just looks at him. "You invited us, Taremtis. You said you wanted to see them."

"Me? See them? Let's see." He gazes at each of you in turn. "A Shadow Elemental. A young boy, unremarkable. A former angel. And a would-be knight? What strange company you keep."

You all just stare at the wizard. Kirt leans forward. "Is that it?"

"Of course not! But you haven't even introduced yourselves."

"How did you know all that?" Flint asks.

"Isn't is obvious?"

"...not really."

"Well." The sage clears his throat. "I am Taremtis. Who are you?"

"...Sir Donovan Flint, of Dobshire. Fourth son of the Lord Flint."

"Auriel Lightcho - " She stops, and licks her lips. "...just, Auriel," She says.

"Uh...J-Joey Erikson," Joey stammers.

Taremtis looks at you when you remain silent. "And yourself?"

<Shadow will do.>

"That's so -boring-," Taremtis says. "How about Donovan Auriel Erikson the Great?"

<...I think not.>

"If you say so, Donovan," Tarmetis says, still looking at you. He glances back at Kirt. "...what were we talking about?"

Kirt is visibly growing more frustrated. "I had -hoped- that YOU would have something to talk about."

"There's no need to raise your voice."

"No need." Kirt rubs the bridge of his nose. "Just tell me something, dammit. You said you'd have something to say when I brought them all here."

Taremtis sits at the table, silent. He stares at the wood. His eyes don't move. His hands sit together, holding his cup.

The cup vanishes. And steadily, something else appears. A ball of light forms, slowly twisting and turning. Green-blue mists swirl within it.

"...a Telling crystal," Auriel whispers. "He is a sage, then."

"I am," Taremtis says. "Do you know the price of a telling?" His voice is different. Solid. Deep. His eyes are focused on the ball.

Auriel nods solemnly.

"...you never spoke of a price," Kirt says.

"To glimpse at what -could-, what -should-, what -may-, steals my mind away. Too many are the possibilities. I am a tiny candle in a storm of potential. And now, after many Tellings, I am a kernel buried in kindhearted madness. Your impatience does not lighten that burden."

"...my apologies. I did not know."

"No. You did not." Taremtis looks up from the ball, and glances around the table. "I have only a short time. I cannot Tell for long, these days, and still preserve what remains of my own self. Ask your questions. One each. One, and only one."

Kirt clears his throat. He takes a breath. "...as you told me before, I have waited. What should I do, now?"

There's a moment's pause, and then the sage speaks. "Go with them. Reclaim the truth of your birth. If the Shadow does not help you, you will certainly fail, though even if it does, you may still fall short. And if you fail, you -will- die."

"...you told me to wait for this long," Kirt begins, his voice rising, "and now I'm simply to go and take it all back? Just like that?!"

"One question, no more." Taremtis looks at Flint while Kirt fumes in his chair. "Lord's son. What of you?"

Flint hesitates a moment, thinking.

Flint licks his lips, then nods to himself. "...how can I be rid of the parasite on my soul?"

"There are many ways," Taremtis says. "None preserve all those for whom you care. Seek the lich with the young girl. Or, seek the aid of the Black Lady. Or, find and use the four keys. In any case, you must return home to end your curse."

Flint seems surprised by this, but nods. Taremtis looks at Joey. "Your question?"

Joey swallows. Then, his face goes firm. "...I want to be stronger, and be a great knight. How can I do that?"

"Trust the Shadow. Trust your teachers. Trust yourself. But be careful, or you will die."

Joey nods.

"Angel?" Taremtis prompts.

Auriel is quiet. She starts to speak, then stops. She seems torn.

Then, she decides.

"...how can I protect Sir Flint?"

"Trust the Spirit within you."

"...no. I cannot. There must be another way."

"If there was, I would Tell you. If you refuse to bend on this, he may very well die."

"I cannot!" Auriel shouts. "What else can I do?"

"One question, I said."

Finally, Taremtis faces you. The crystal ball glows like green fire. You can feel its Wind swirling harder.

"...the crystal dislikes you, Shadow. Ask quickly. I will bend it to my whim."

<What cost must be paid to restore true harmony between the elements?>

"...you know nothing," the sage says. His hands seem to tighten on the ball for a moment, then relax. "Harmony? Between the elements? There is no harmony to be had. It is their interaction, their very disharmony that forms the world we live in. Would you return the world to nothingness? Learn the difference between disharmony and peace." The sage tenses, then relaxes. The wind is spinning faster. "Ask your question before I can no longer answer."

<How can I bring the Earth Elemental, Geb, back to sanity?>

"Remove the curse upon Sir Flint - his power will be needed, or you will die in your quest. Then, speak with Yi Fang, the Lich of Archon. Seek his aid in acquiring the Staff of Winds. The staff will part the storm holding Geb captive. The parasite of Light keeps him mad. You must - "

Spears of wind spike at the edges of the crystal. Taremtis's arms are thrown backward. Almost as quickly, he lunges forward, putting his hands in place around the sphere. He can barely contain the rising force.

"...one...last...thing..." He looks at Kirt. "...to reclaim what is yours...Blackwater...you'll need her..."

He clenches his hands, and the crystal fades back to nothing. Light returns to the room.

Taremtis smiles at you all. "Well, my birds need feeding. TALLY-HO!" He flies up into the air, his robes flapping wildly, and soars out of a nearby window.

"...that was weird," Joey says.

Flint looks at you. "...you're planning to help Geb?"

<He is bound and tortured mad. From what I know, he is a friend of the Shadow. But it seems as though we have a long path ahead of us.>

"...I..." Kirt stands. He looks at all of you. "We don't know each other well...but...if you'll have me, I wish to travel with you. I have a feeling that I need to do so, after what he said. In exchange...all my skill as a warrior, and ranger, against any obstacles you may face."

You look at your companions. <I would approve.>

Flint nods. "I won't say no to your offer."

Auriel thumps her elbows on the table. "I've got a few questions. Who the hell are you, and what did he mean about 'take back what is yours'? I've got enough on my plate without getting dragged into someone else's mess."

You wish she was a little more subtle, but you have to admit she gets to the point quickly. <I, too, would like to know these things,> you say. <Apparently, you need me. I would appreciate honesty.>

Kirt seems about to say something when Taremtis flies back in through the window. He uses his wind magic to propel something down to the floor. It nearly slams into Kirt, but at the last moment, it stops dead, then falls to the floor. "Don't forget your shit, you ungrateful canyon rat!" He cackles like a madman and flies back outside.

Kirt lifts one of the fallen objects. It's what appears to be a metal shield. A large ram is carved into the front.

Auriel cocks her head. "That shield is Kanian."

Kirt turns toward you all, still holding his shield. He looks at the ground, then back. "...I...am not entirely sure I want to do what he says. But if I don't travel with you, I lose the option." He looks at the face of the ram on the shield. "...if I do...then, I will tell you."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkS16NkrOyE

<You don't need to tell me,> you say. <You are Obis Vin, rightful ruler of Kan Abar, ousted by your brother, Nulis Vin. Though most believe you dead.>

Kirt is stunned. Auriel, Flint, and Joey all look at you. Kirt takes a breath. "...what makes you say that?"

<It is simple,> you say. <I have learned in reading that the remnants of the True Flame - those dedicated to Logi, the Fire Elemental - settled in Kan Abar after the war. It makes sense that their descendents would retain their fiery souls...as you so obviously have. Secondly, your cloak, also painted with a ram, carries a powerful enchantment that hides you from detection. Such a great treasure would naturally be possessed by one of your status, and would also explain how you escaped from your brother in one piece. You also related to Flint that you were familiar with the comforts of a noble home, revealing that you were likely of highs status. Finally, the sage said that you needed to take back what was yours - and what else could he mean, but the throne stolen from you?>

"...damn," Auriel mutters.

"You're an observant one," Kirt says. "I guess there's no point in hiding it. I am indeed Obis Vin. Formerly, the prince of Kan Abar. Now, an anonymous exile."

<Why did you leave Kan Abar?>

"...my brother drove me out."

<I remember hearing Kanians lamenting your brother's heavy-handed rule, and wishing for your return. Would you deny them?>

"...you know who I am, but you don't know the half of it."

<I am listening.>

Kirt grits his teeth. Then he sighs, and slumps back into his chair. "...Nulis...he was always the general - our greatest. I was an administrator. Good with politics, in handling the noble families, popular amongst the people. When our father withdrew from the public eye, in poor health due to his advancing years, he relied on us to run the kingdom. And run them we did. Very well. New trade agreements with Arland, and Imil, and the elves. The long tension between ourselves and the empire seemed settled. Our people prospered.

"Nulis never resented me for my position as the elder. He was always my friend, and ally, and more importantly, my family. I trusted him implicitly."

Obis rubs the bridge of his nose. "One day, that changed. We were visited by a large diplomat contingent from the empire. Amongst them were several of Heavensgate's merchant councilmen, and several angels. And a large noble retinue."

Auriel nods. "I remember this. It was to bring Kan Abar into the fold against the Black Lady. Tyrael and Sandalphon both went. A high honor."

"Indeed," Obis says. "...I've never been much a mage, myself, beyond a few tricks. No talent. But I remember my brother's face when he saw the Highest of the High."

Auriel nods again, but says nothing.

"...amongst the nobles was a woman that captured my eye...and, soon enough, my heart," Obis says.

You glance at Flint and Auriel, and you make a rather not-subtle smile. Auriel goes stony-faced. Flint just ignores you.

"The meeting ended after two weeks, and the retinue all flew back on their airship," Obis continues. "But for the lady, Kullia Nesteral. Daughter of the Councilman Nesteral. A beautiful woman, and kind. Fiercely intelligent. I'd courted many women, if just for show. But her...she was different.

"It wasn't long until we were engaged. The match was a good one - a very prominent lady of Heavensgate, through whom I could open much trade with the empire proper. It was seen as a positive for both sides. My father approved, and the engagement was set. But though all this, my brother changed. Through my informants, I heard rumors he coveted Kullia. I ignored them. Few men wouldn't covet her, I believed. I ignored how he grew distant. How he began working with some of the nobles behind my back.

"I knew something was wrong when he started pushing me to attack Kelvere," Obis says. He stares up at the rows of books lining the walls of the tower. "At a time when another push was being made to reclaim Temerland...he seemed to believe that was the time to strike. He'd ignore all our promises of friendship for territory, for war. And on top of that, if half of what I'd heard about the duke was true, he'd be planning much worse for us should we strike at him. I held firm to my position - a cautious extension of some troops to Gaphold, while stoking further trade agreements from the imperial council.

"Then I discovered his experiments with demons. A secret weapon to guarantee victory against Kelvere." Obis hangs his head. "...I believed it was the work of a group in league with Archon, who wanted to reconquer and divide up Arland and Kelvere. Yi Fang is a strong ruler, but I believe that the path to peace lay with the empire, and trade, not through yet war. Not realizing the truth, I ran to my brother with what I found. He pretended to share my concerns...and then led me into a den of traitors."

Obis holds his face his a hand. He leans low from his seat, tense with memories. "...he ranted at me, then. Saying how he'd rule the world with Kullia. How I was a short-sighted fool that was leading Kan Abar toward becoming a mere puppet of the empire. And he went on about her, again, and again. Telling me that they were meant for each other, and I was using my status as the heir to get in the way and steal her from him.

"...if it wasn't for one precaution I'd taken when I found out about the traitors, I'd be dead. An old ally, Vidar Blackwater, gave me distraction enough to slip away. There was a fight in the palace, then, between my loyal followers and the much larger faction my brother had turned to his side. It turned into a slaughter. I tried to reach Kullia...but Nulis beat me to her. He held her hostage, threatening to kill her if I persisted." His hand clenches tight. "There was no time. His men were surrounding me. I ran. Abandoned her. I ran. Kept running. All the way here."

For a time, it's quiet.

"...how did you end up in Refuge?" Auriel asks.

"...I was lost in Tarun Gakth," he says, "barely surviving. I collapsed from exhaustion, and hunger. When I woke up, I was here, in these towers. Taremtis used his crystal...and told me to wait, until the time was right." Obis looks at you. "...I would travel with you, Shadow. I do not know if I have it in me to return...but to close that door entirely..." He clenches his fist. "...not yet."

<Are you aware of the war between Kan Abar and Kelvere?>

Obis draws back, then sighs. "...war, then. What's happened?"

You glance at Flint and Auriel. They nod at you.

It takes a while, but you tell Kirt the details of the war and your defense of Jacob's Field and Evinbrook. Kirt sadly sighs. "...that fool. What is he thinking?"

<It seems Kan Abar is in need of leadership,> you say.

"...I already failed once."

<Well. If you do chose to go back, let me make something clear,> you say. <If I then chose to help you, I will help you attain justice - but not vengeance. Remember that.>

"Fair enough."

You extend a shadowy appendage, which is in no way phallic or otherwise sexual in nature. It forms into a hand. <Then you are welcome to join us. For now, we seek to remove Sir Flint's curse. After that...we'll see.>

Obis looks at your 'hand' for a moment, then grasps it and gives it a firm shake. "Alright."

<Who exactly is this Blackwater you mentioned?>

Obis smiles slightly. "My family has been friends with theirs for a long time. Vidar was a thief, pirate, and, for Kan Abar, a smuggler. Head of the thieves guild of Kan Abar, which, officially, does not exist." He frowns. "But...the sage said 'she'. Blackwater is a man. I don't know what he meant by that. Perhaps he was talking about Kullia. Or the images ran together. But either way, I know not what became of him after my brother took over."

<I see. Well.> You raise yourself up. <Shall we depart?>

Your companions nod. Auriel takes a long breath. "It's long past we get back on the road. I doubt they've traveled faster than we have, with a girl in tow, but we don't want to lose time."

"Where exactly are we going?" Obis asks.

<It's a long story.>
"It's a long story."

You and Flint both glance at each other, then smile and shrug. Obis chuckles. "Apparently, it is."

Auriel looks concerned. "...you're getting to know Shadow a little too well, I think."

"Oh, if it wanted to eat me, it could have done that ages ago," Flint says. "Let's go."

"I'll be out in a moment," Kirt says.

You wait outside the tower for Kirt...

Auriel looks at you. "You seek to free Geb?"

<He was captured and driven insane, and has wandered those plains for 700 years,> you say. <I admit I feel pity for him.>

"...with that...I can never help you," Auriel says.

<Then you can enjoy cockroaches with the sage until we return. As I'm sure Flint will join me, and Joey knows he can trust me. Isn't that right?>

"Well, I already knew that," Joey said. "I guess the sage said so too, though."

"Flint," Auriel says, pointedly looking at the knight, "would not be so foolish to violate what is in no uncertain terms an edict from Hyperion himself that Geb must be kept firmly locked away. A spell of the Light Elemental himself rests upon the Earth Lord, and it is not to be tampered with."

<I see you seek another debate on the nature of good and evil to pass the time on our travels. Should Geb prove destructive after we free him, and his mind, I will change my opinion. But as far as I know, Aeolus attacked him - not the other way around. Geb was not aggressive."

"Tell that to Hyperion," Auriel snaps.

<When were you born?>

"What?"

<Answer the question.>

"...29 B.E."

<There. You were not witness to the beginnings of the war itself. Hyperion defended his allies against Geb's attacks, yes. But Geb only attacked because he was pressed into it by the Wind Lord. Leaving him insane and trapped for all eternity is not justice.>

"It is as Hyperion has done."

<Think of it this way,> you say. <Surely the good and great Hyperion did not intend such a cruel, vindictive punishment. The curse was to take him out of the war, not to lock him in madness forever. He probably had something else planned.>

"What's your point?"

<If Hyperion is as good as you say - and therefore, wouldn't want Geb in the state he's in forever - it would align with his will to free Geb.>

"...and what happens if Geb goes on a vengeful rampage?" Auriel asks. "Are you going to take responsibility for that?"

<So it's acceptable to leave someone in a state of eternal torture because they might be angry about it when you set them free?> You look at her with derision. <You're smarter than that.>

"Don't be naive," Auriel snaps. "If his continued torture prevents the death of hundreds of thousands of innocent people, then yes, I have no moral qualms with it. Do I think it's fair? No. But life isn't fair, either. You're an ideologue if you actually think you're going to just waltz in and patch things up between the elements."

<I wouldn't say that. I think I've made plenty of progress with you.>

"Progress. Is that what you call it?" She raises a fist. "I'll show you some progress."

Flint puts his hands on Auriel's fist and lowers it back to her side. "Now, children, let's not argue."

Auriel seems surprised. "...Flint. You're on my side. Right?"

"Perhaps, if we brought enough force to bear - enough to reseal Geb should he prove belligerent - it might be worth something," Flint says.

"That would be a Nether-ending hell of a force," Auriel mutters.

Flint smiles. "The elves have an interest in settling the matter of their patron, one way, or another. With their aid..."

Auriel raises an eyebrow. "I'm an island of realism in a sea of idiots. First, Geb, now, an alliance with the elves. What's next? Use Spirit magic to bring the dwarves back to life?"

...you begin to wonder about that.

"Look at you!" Auriel says, waving in your direction. "You actually took that seriously! You two are impossible. Even if - alright. Let's say your crazy plan to have a force capable of calming him worked. The sage still told you you'd need Yi Fang's help to get the Staff of Winds. Firstly, the Staff hasn't been seen since the Sky-sever was cast. Secondly, Yi Fang is an iron-fisted dictator that would make you into a dynamo as soon as help you."

"We'll settle it later," Flint says.

"But - "

He squeezes her hand and kisses her on the cheek. "Later."

Auriel pouts, and folds her arms. "We will settle it," she says. But then she clams up.

Flint winks at you.

You're surprised he actually got her to stop.

Suddenly, the advantages of their relationship spread wide before you

Footsteps make you all glance over. Obis is walking toward you - and he's clearly dressed for success.

<Impressive armor,> you say.

"...leftovers, from when I first arrived." His ram-head shield is strapped across his back. His red cloak is draped behind it. You can't detect his presence at all. "You still haven't exactly told me what's going on, by the way. I'd appreciate at least the bare bones."

You exchange a glance with Flint.

You tell Obis everything.

He's quiet for a moment as he absorbs all the details. "...that's some story. Flint. Your life could be in serious danger."

"It's been in danger for a while," Flint mutters.

"No, but...what if it gets worse with time? We know next to nothing about this Shel'kath. You could drop dead tomorrow."

Flint blinks at that. "...well...I've never really felt it get worse..."

Auriel looks worried. "...he makes a good point. But...there's nothing we can do about it, anyway."

Obis shakes his head. "You mentioned a demon told you the name, correct? We need merely summon the demon."

<...you know of summoning?>

"I'm no expert, but...Rogul might be able to help us," Obis says. "Assuming he has the reagents we need."

<Actually, I have the reagents on hand. I was hoping Adavan could help us.>

"Then, by the eight, what the hell are you all waiting for?"

Auriel throws up her hands. "Gee, summoning a demon to solve our problems with the help of a angry old orc shaman. What could possibly go wrong with that? What a great idea!" She folds her arms. "You people have a death wish. All of you."

"I've dealt with them before," Obis says. "I'd never dare with an army of the things, like Nulis has used. But they can be useful, properly controlled."

<Auriel.> You turn to her. <If we have a chance of summoning a good source of information...even a potential cure...we need to take it. Immediately.>

Auriel glances down. She sighs, then looks at Flint. "...if you're sure."

"I am," Flint says.

"...ok."

You look at Obis. <How can we get Rogul to help us?>

"...let's make a deal," Obis says. "I can use...some leverage, I have, to get Rogul's help. In exchange...if I ever decide to go home, I want your allegiance. Not even just to me, but to what I represent - Kan Abar, and its people. After we cure Sir Flint's affliction, of course, and find your two friends."

<...allegiance.>

"Yes. We would be allies. Kan Abar would be a haven for you, should you wish to stay there."

<What if you don't decide to go home?>

Obis shrugs. "Then I cash in a favor with Rogul I'd probably never use otherwise, and that's the end of it."


<There's a problem.>

"Yes?" Obis asks.

<I have a good relationship with the duke. I have fought with Kelvere against Kan Abar. To align myself with you would be to turn my back on him.>

Obis rubs his forehead.

He sighs. "There are too many 'ifs' and 'buts' here for my taste. But...if I were to take the throne...I would not seek conflict with the duke. In fact, I believe I'd seek quite the opposite. For even if my brother was misguided, if we grew too close to the empire, we'd just end up a puppet, as he believed."

<I can accept this.>

"Good. Kan Abar values its independence." Obis glances at Flint. "Unlike some other countries I could mention."

Flint bends his brow. "I am tired of repeating this. Arland is not a puppet of the empire."

"You admit you've been away from home longer than I have, and you claim to be abreast of politics?" Obis says. "We would have allied with Arland long ago, had you let us. Your brother licks the boots of the angels on a monthly basis."

"We have never asked for our boots to be licked," Auriel says sharply. "We have to present a solid front to the Black Lady. And Archon, if need be. Arland won its independence with our help. Of course we're close allies."

"Allies," Obis says. "If you say so."

"I do," Auriel insists.

Obis lets his arms drop. "I have no desire to argue." He looks at Flint. "But you should be wary. Auriel, or even other angels, may not wish to use Arland as a meat shield against Arland and Kan Abar, if need be. But the imperial council certainly does."

<Enough,> you say. <This discussion is getting nowhere. We have a demon to summon.>

The party marches down to Rogul's home. The Shaman lives in just another one of the houses carved into the walls of the canyons, though there are many beads, cloths, and symbols draped about the door and windows. Obis knocks hard three times. "Chieftain. It's me."

The door opens...

A young orcling answers the door. She's young, between thirteen and fifteen years old. She smiles brightly. "...wow, Kirt. You look handsome in all that armor."

Obis smiles. "You flatter me, young lady. Is your father home?"

"He is." She looks at the rest of the party, ignoring you, as you're hiding in Flint's shadow. "Kirt's friends are welcome to share our home."

It isn't long before Rogul sees you. He pats the girl's head, then examines the party. "Kirt. Has the time come at last?"

Obis nods. "I have a favor to ask, Rogul."

"You know I cannot refuse."

Kirt explains the relevant details of Flint's curse, and the proposed solution.

Rogul snorts at the end of it. "...a succubus. Hmph. Who will be the summoner?"

"...a familiar of Taremtis, that he lent us," Obis says. He looks in your direction. "Come, Shadow."

You reveal yourself to Rogul, keeping the form of an indistinct blob of shadow. Rogul looks you over. "Hmph. Decades later and that crazy bastard still surprises me." He turns. "Come."

You wander down some stairs in the back of the building. You speak so only Obis can hear. <What favor did you do Rogul that he's willing to help so readily? He seemed so stubborn, before.>

"That was his daughter, Niaga," Kirt whispers. "I saved her life, once, a month or two after I first arrived."

<...about this. Do I have to do anything to be the summoner?>

"One beauty of summoning magic," Obis says quietly. "The caster, and the summoner, are two different entities. Control of a ritual summon is about willpower, not mana. So it can be passed to anyone, given the right setup."

You reach the next floor...and then descend another set of stairs. You end up in a large stone room, square, musty and damp. Symbols, numbers, and sigils are carved into the floor in complex patterns.

You lay out some of the materials. Rogul quickly arranges the powders and jars into seemingly random locations around the floor. He then begins to mutter to himself, a soft, continual chant. He drags his cane across the floor.

Where the wood slides across the stone, the symbols brighten. It isn't long before half the floor is glowing as if lights are imbedded in it. Most of it is bright orange - the color of Spirit - but flashes of shadow, water, and even fire spurt here and there.

"Stand here." Rogul indicates a relatively blank area. You move where indicated. He glances at all of you. "Prepare yourselves. If this...familiar...falters, if will be on your shoulders to slay whatever comes through. We will be isolated until we fish out the right thing."

"We don't know the name of the demon," Flint asks. "Isn't that important?"

"It was summoned once before," Rogul says. "Once, I was an orc of Archon. I learned much. Information from demons one comes in contact with imprints itself on the soul. This can be extracted to summon specific demons. It is, however, an imprecise art. Be prepared."

Flint draws his sword. Auriel does likewise, also preparing her shield. Obis looks ready for just about anything, as usual.

The sigil glows until the light is cast up on the walls and ceiling. Rogul's face is coated in half light, half-shadow. He looks at you. "Ready yourself, creature."

The room shudders slightly. Rogul closes his eyes in concentration.

The seal on the floor flares and strobes. Your companions clench their weapons tightly.

The magic begins to lift from the ground. It hangs in the air...and again you can see that other place, the gateway to the nether.

Something's coming through.

The creature walks through the portal.

"Ah..." Annette unfolds her wings. "It's good to be back. Greetings, Master."

<Shadow will do. I have heard that demons possess true names. What is yours?>

"That's - my - little - secret!"

You are not amused. You did not bring this demon here for her incessant, annoying conversation. You need to show her who's in charge, immediately.

<I asked you a question.>

Annette blinks. She bows to you. "...I am _̴̛̛̅͗̿̀̐̐ͯͤ̈͋̆͡͠lͮ̈̂̑̎̔͊ͨ͆́̕͜͞͝}ͥ́ͦ̔͂ͪ̑̇̓̃͛ͫ̚͝͝҉_̈͗ͣ̓ͥ̽͑ͤ͡>̑̈́̍̄ͯͤ̄҉̨͢ In the common tongue...Xella."

Oddly, you feel the name as more an...Impression...than a word. But you understand nonetheless.

The spell fades, and Xella is left standing before you. She glances behind you. "Oh, Donny! How have you been? I feel like it's been ages. I suppose you both took care of that nasty, ugly brute of a lord, didn't you?"

"...uh...sort of," Flint says. He's working hard not to stare.

Auriel pointedly steps in front of him. "Demon. We require information. You know of the parasite on Flint's soul?"

Xella looks at Auriel, then turns back you without answering. "How can I be of service, Mas-ah, Shadow?"

<I want you to tell me everything you know about the Shel'Kath.>

She nods to you.

"I know some little," she says. "The Shel'kath is an artificial demon." She puts a finger to her lips. "Well, technically, all demons are artificial. From a certain perspective. Succubi are related to the Shel'kath, actually."

<How so?>

"We both feed on souls," she says. "Now, I rely on..." Xella grins evilly. "...shall we say, more subtle methods of predation? But Shel'kath are just nasty, ugly brutes that attack and feed. Disgusting lumps of shadow." She looks at you and smiles. "Not like you, of course, Shadow. You have control...mastery..." She bends forward and wriggles back and forward, staring you in the eye. "...it's rather intoxicating to think about it...all that strong, powerful control...how you can just -use- the shadow like your little plaything..."

Flint's jaw has gone slack. Even Obis's weapon is in danger of slipping from his hand.

Auriel clears her throat loudly. Flint glances at her, then straightens, but too quickly - he starts coughing on his own spit. He pounds his chest to clear his throat. Auriel taps her foot, glaring at him as he struggles.

<Get to the point,> you say.

"Oh, yes, you don't care for that sort of thing." She straightens. "Well, I digress. The Shel'kath on Donny has been split in two pieces. One on him, drawing from his soul. Another somewhere else, delivering energy. That travels through the nether, rather than this plane of existence...so it's secure, and quite well hidden."

<Is Sir Flint in any immediate danger?>

Xella looks at him. "...no. His soul is quite strong. Even...unique. Maybe tasty."

<I'll have none of that.>

"...aww." She bats her eyelids at you. "None at ALL?"

<You are not to touch any souls,> you say. <Ever.>

"Well, Donny, I can understand," she says. "But what about the boy there? He looks tasty. You don't need him, right?"

<I said no.>

"Just one little suck?"

Orange light flares under Xella's feet. Energy cracks over her like a whip. She shrieks, and falls to a knee.

Rogul glances at you from behind the succubus with a pointed and annoyed look. His face says -don't screw up again-.

<None means none. I will not compromise on this. Pray I find someone vile enough to feed them to you. Otherwise, I won't send you back to hell. I'll send you to the Ringed City.>

Xella stands and nods quickly. "Yes, Shadow. I understand." A slow smile forms on her face. "I didn't know you were into whips, though. I like whips."

<How do we get rid of the Shel'kath?>

"...well...I don't know." She holds up her hands. "Honest. I've seen it split like that before, but I've never seen one destroyed. Although...I could attack it, if you wanted. But it's sunk in pretty deep. There's a good chance Donny wouldn't be doing so well afterward."

<What do you mean?>

"Well, he could be driven insane because half his soul is ripped out with the demon. Or, put into a deep sleep he never wakes up from." She cocks her head at you. "If that happens, can I eat him?"

<No. Do you know of any other method?>

"...well...no. The mage that created it might be able to help. Or someone who's seen it done. I don't think it's the sort of thing made to be undone."

You glance back at Flint. <Trying to kill it outright sounds risky.>

Flint swallows. He nods. "If I'm not about to drop, we should wait until we reach Adavan. Hopefully he can tell us something."

That sounds reasonable to you. You turn back to Xella.

"Mas - ah, Shadow?" She gives you a lopsided smile. "Sorry. Habit. Will I be traveling with you and Donny? I'm so..." She squints. "I...would...like to not go back."

<I see. Be sure to keep that desire in mind. If you disobey me, I will rid myself of you on the spot. One way, or another.>

"Yes, Shadow."

You think this demon might be useful. But a discussion might be profitable. It is clearly a dangerous thing to have around. You turn to your companions. <With that motivation, she could be a helpful ally.>

Obis nods. "I agree."

Auriel shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

"It seems like she respects Shadow, somewhat," Flint says.

"You can't be serious," Auriel says. "Donovan. It's a demon."

"It helped us in the battle."

"It will do what is best for it, and no one else."

"I won't hurt Donny," Xella chimes in. "I sort of like him, anyway."

"His name is Sir Flint," Auriel says sharply.

"He likes Donny," Xella says. "I can tell."

"Shut up."

"Let's not argue," Flint says.

"Stay out of it," Auriel snaps.

"It's ok, Donny," Xella says. "You don't need to defend me. The angel's just worried because she knows you think I'm beautiful."

Auriel grinds her teeth together. "Shadow," she says, "banish this infernal creature before I choke it to death."

Xella grins broadly, showing two fangs on either side of even, white teeth. "Jealous? Maybe you should take the rod out of your ass. We could have some fun, all three of us." Xella's smile turns cocky, and she flaps her fibrous wings. "By the way, where are your wings, Miss Angel?"

"One more word, you disgusting bat, and I'll rip your wings out of your back."

"Donny," Xella says. She cocks en eyebrow. "What -have- you been dealing with while I've been gone?"

"That's it!" Auriel shouts. Light begins to glow in her hands.

"If you care about Donny all that much, maybe you should let me stick around."

Auriel's spell swirls in her hands, but she doesn't move. You all face the demon. <What do you mean?> you ask.

"Shadow," Xella says. "Can you see the Shel'kath easily?"

<...easily. No. With effort, I can bring it into focus.>

"Ah, you see." Xella raises a pointed fingernail. "I can see it plain as day. If there are any changes, I can let you know immediately. I don't know everything about the spell that split it. Perhaps it can be controlled from the other end. To protect Donny, we need to stay vigilant."

<I thought you wanted to eat him.>

"Well, I changed my mind. And you wouldn't like that. I'm sure we'll meet plenty of nasty people I can eat later. Why eat your friends and make you angry?"

You glance at Auriel, who has since dropped her hands, and her spell. <She offers a reasonable point,> you say.

"...demonstrate complete control over this demon," Auriel says. "I will accept nothing less."

It seems, where Flint is concerned, Auriel is willing to compromise beyond usual limits.

<You don't want to go back to the Nether?> you ask Xella.

"...no...master...Shadow. It can be...painful, there."

<Do you know why I don't want you to attack humans?>

"...you like some of them?" she says.

<It goes beyond that.>

Auriel taps her foot loudly on the stone. "I'm waiting."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hGyAqbezgZU

She still doesn't understand.

You speak so only she can hear.

<Do you think you are somehow special?> you say. <That you are the only thing which suffers? To not exist is to be free. It is existence which is true suffering.

<I never asked to be thrown into a world I did not understand with my memories torn from me> you tell her. <I do not know what I am. I do not know where I come from. But these worries are ultimately unimportant, because it is I who defines who I am, and it is I who chooses my purpose. To allow pain and worry to chose your purpose is ultimately to be controlled by the world around you. I rebel against that control.>

You seize the Shard of True Darkness within you. <Feel this, and understand what you seek.>

Loneliness blasts out at her in a wave. Xella flinches backwards. Her eyes widen. She trembles as the cold, searing Isolation grips her.

You cut it off. She's fallen to both knees. You stand above her. <Nothingness. Loneliness. Isolation. They are not the peace you imagine them to be. They are not the silence of a easy rest. They are terrible to behold, are they not?>

"...yes."

<I will create a place for myself, and those for whom I care, that is free from that pain. A place of life, that avoids that pain.

You again speak so the room can hear. <That is why you cannot consume everything,> you finish. <Do you understand.>

Xella nods. "...I understand. Please, spare me that feeling. I don't want it again."

<It is not my intention to intimidate you. Merely to demonstrate what you ask for.> You step back. <Stand.>

Xella stands. She bows low to you. "I shall not question your will on this matter again, Shadow."

<Good.> You look at Auriel. <Are you satisfied?>

Auriel glances at Rogul. "Chieftain...is the demon under strong lock and key?"

"As best I can manage," Rogul says. "The Shadow has bent the creature to its will, as you asked."

"...fine. But when this is done...the demon is as well."

It seems Xella has been reigned in significantly.

<Then you're with us,> you tell Xella. <I've given you a chance. Don't waste it.>

"Yes, master."

You turn. <Shadow will do, Xella. Shadow will do.> You look at the party. <We need to move, quickly.>

They all nod. "Let's go."

Obis walks to Rogul and clasps his shoulder. "...thank you, my friend. For everything."

"I need no thanks." He glances at Xella. "Keep an eye on the creature."

"We will."

You march up into refuge. Obis takes a moment to say goodbye to Rogul's daughter, and then you trek off up the other side of the river.

You reach the canyon into which Adavan's symbol points. You glance back at your party. You've the son of the Lord of Dobshire, the exiled prince of Kan Abar, a former angel, a young village boy in deep over his head, and a demon following just behind you.

You feel as though your life has swiftly grown rather complicated.

You enter the canyon.

<I've been considering adopting a more human form, to more easily interact with humans," you tell them. You shift into the shape you've imagined...

<What do you think?>

"Are you supposed to be a man, or a woman?" Obis asks.

<Neither. Your opposing genders give me enough grief as it is.>

"I like it," Xella says. "It's kind of kinky. Do you have both sets of parts, too?"

"Can we -not- have this conversation?" Auriel asks.

"What?" Xella says. "Afraid of exploring your hermaphroditic fetish?"

"I'm warning you, demon. I'm not as lenient as the Shadow."

"You're more lenient than it is," Xella says solemnly. She's been flapping around in the air, but she hovers over Flint's horse, and lands directly behind him, just behind the saddle. "Mind if I join you, Donny? My wings are tired."

"...well...uh...that's not really...um..."

Auriel's words come short and hard. "Get. Off. The. Horse."

Xella sticks her tongue out at her. Auriel looks ready to begin another spell, but Xella takes off once more.

But not before pecking Flint on the cheek. "We'll have plenty of private time later, Donny."

"Uh...m-maybe we shouldn't...um...things like that...don't..."

But Xella is already off, scouting ahead down the path. Auriel's gaze bores into the poor knight. He scratches the back of his neck. "What?"

"Enjoy that, did you?"

"No, of course not," Flint says immediately.

"Good." Auriel straightens in her saddle. "Otherwise I'd have to kill you."

Flint swallows hard.

Obis sidles up to you and gives you a nudge. "This...is going to be entertaining. By the way, your new look is good. Very Shadow Mage."

<Entertaining is the not the word I had in mind. But thank you.>

Shadow Quest Chapter 26

You sense Xella's magic signature drift up, and then down. She lands to trick the sky-sever, then takes off again, scouting the path ahead.

"If we keep going in this direction, we'll hit the rock worm nesting grounds," Obis says. "Here's hoping your necromancer -friend- was smart enough to avoid that."

You sidle up to Flint. You've been meaning to tell him about the Shard of True Darkness and the shadow mana pool you found underneath Refuge...

You give Flint the short version of what happened.

"Another shadow..." Flint murmurs. "...but it wasn't like you. Rabid. Maybe just an elemental?"

"No. This one was different. It was aggressive...but this thing I consumed from it...I don't know what to make of it."

Flint shrugs. "I know less than you. Maybe Adavan will know something? Or the duke?"

You feel doubtful. Something tells you this isn't the kind of thing even Adavan would be an expert on. Time will have to tell. You were able to push its power onto Xella as a form of communication...but you don't believe that's all it can be good for.

You continue to walk through the winding paths. After a few hours, the path abruptly ends at a sharp opening.

Joey whistles.

A wide valley, almost like a miniature desert, lies before you. You can see the rocky cliffs ringing the flats in a wide circle. The valley itself is filled with rugged piles of rock, as if it too was cliffs, but they were all blasted to rubble, but much of it is flat. The entire thing is dotted with black holes leading into the earth.

You feel out the ground before you. Adavan's sigil pops up from the ground...and it points left, along the rock wall.

"At least he was smart enough to hug the edge," Obis says. "Keep to the rock. Avoid softer ground. We don't want to disturb thi-"

What sounds like an explosion blasts over the group. You all swivel. A huge worm leaps out of the ground nearly its entire body length. It slams back down, and its mouth chews and parts the rocky sands like water. In a moment, it's gone, leaving two more holes. A rumble shakes the ground periodically.

"...they're territorial, and it's mating season," Obis says grimly. "Like I said. Keep to the rock."

Your party starts around the ridge of the nesting grounds.

You walk along the edge of the rock wall. It looms high to your right. The desert keeps rumbling, but it feels distant.

You keep an eye on Joey. Seems like he's doing fine, but you don't want him to get himself killed with a trip.

So far, so good.

Xella alights next to you and picks her way behind you. "Master?"

<I told you that Shadow would do.>

"...my apologies. What, exactly, are we doing? I mean, I know we're trying to help Donny with that whole Shel'kath problem...but what then? Ah...what I mean to say, is..."

<You mean to ask how long you'll be useful to me after we rid ourselves of the parasite.>

"...I suppose so. Will you have a role for me when the deed is done?"

<If you follow my orders and behave, you have nothing to fear. I extend to you the very same chance I seek from those who fear the shadow.> You turn to look at her. <Earn my trust, and I will strive to protect your existence. But know that it isn't just my trust you must earn - it is theirs. If Sir Flint insists, you will find yourself back home sooner rather than later.>

"...understood."

<Have you heard of something called humanization?>

Xella frowns in a pouty sort of way. "...I have not, Shadow."

<I see. Never mind, then.>

Xella nods, and takes flight.

You continue to walk along the edge of the wall.

The ground rumbles heavily. The party stops, and gathers closer together. Joey swallows hard.

The rumbling slowly dies. You all breath a sigh of relief.

After that, you make good time. It isn't long before you come across a new obstacle.

A huge hole has been burrowed into the canyon wall. It looks like a black, perfectly round cave. You don't expect the sigil, but it pops up when you step over it. The orange light glows, rotates, and points directly into the cave.

Obis takes a swig of his canteen, then wipes his face with the back of his glove. "...you sure this guy wanted you to follow him?"

"No," Auriel says flatly.

<Yes,> you say. <Come.>

Auriel sighs. "I'll light the way. Let us be off."

You start into the mouth of the cavern.

The ground rumbles.

You all stop. Dust falls from the ceiling. The rock cracks sharply.

"MOVE!" Obis shouts.

You take off at a sprint. A worm careens up through the ground - not as large as the one you saw in the distance, but at least half as wide as the cave itself. It protrudes out of the ground, then swivels toward the party, still retreating into the cavern. It lunges toward the person at the end of the group -

- Auriel.

You speed toward Auriel. <Xella! Distract the worm!>

Xella zips past you. Black-gold fire outlines her form. You cast a Shade, and it splits off and charges for the worm.

The worm turns toward your shade, distracted by the screech it emits!

The worm lifts its head up, then digs under your shade, consuming it with the floor of the cavern. It pops in a cloud of shadow magic.

You snag Auriel's horse and heave. In a moment, you're soaring away from the monster. She clings to the saddle for dear life as you put distance between yourself and the danger.

Xella's fire explodes inside the mouth of the worm. And angry roar echoes off the walls, but it seems a lot more angry than hurt. It turns toward her, but she bats her wings, carrying herself backward and out of reach. She continues lobbing fireballs as she flies backward, slowing its progress, but most of it deflects off the worm's hide. It's slowed, but it steadily churns forward.

Purple globes of light form around your body and leap forward, turning into flying beams of shadow. You land a direct hit into the mouth of the worm. The spell explodes into its throat.

The worm roars its loudest yet. It shrieks in pain, and begins to thrash back and forward, slamming its body into the walls. Rock tumbles from the ceiling.

Xella continues to chuck her fireballs, further disorienting the injured rock worm. But she doesn't see the stalagmite falling straight for her!

<Look out!>

The roar of the cave worm is too loud, and the entrance to the cavern is collapsing around you. She can't hear.

You burst into the air, flying for her as fast as you can.

You grab her as you fly past, pulling her aside - but not in time to avoid getting hit yourself. The edge of the stalactite clips your wing, throwing you into a roll.

But a moment later, you stabilize. You separate from her, and the two of you fly as fast as you can. The roof of the cavern is collapsing behind you in a shower of rock and dust!

A chunk of rock tumbles down in front of you. You swerve to the side, turning sideways to avoid getting hit.

You dive down to the cavern floor to gain speed, running along the ground like cloud of shadow. Xella follows just behind.

The sound of collapsing rock suddenly fades. You glance back. The tunnel is totally jammed with rubble from floor to ceiling. You might be able to dig out, but it would take a long time. Luckily, it's only blocking the way you came in, not the way you need to go.

You and Xella quickly arrive at the party. A spell cast by Auriel hovers over them - a small globe of light, illuminating the surrounding rock. You and your demon land on the edge of the group.

"Well, that was exciting," Obis says.

<Is everyone alright?>

A chorus of "yes" and "yups" answers you. You glance at Auriel. <That was a little close. You are unharmed?>

"...I'm fine." She looks about to say more, but then turns away.

<What is it?>

"...nothing. Let's get going."

There's only one way forward. You walk deeper into the round cave. Your light is a small island in the vast dark.

"...well," Obis says. "The good news is, this cave was made by a worm. So it's just going to be straight all the way through."

"What's the bad news?" Flint asks.

"It was made by a worm."

"...right."

You trudge forward through the dark. You feel right at home.

Kree-kre-kreeee!

The party glances around as the odd noise echoes off the walls around you.

"...what was that?" Joey asks.

"It was shut up and don't make noise," Flint mutters.

Kreeeee! Kreeeee!

Keeeeaa. KeeAAAA.

Keee-keee. Kreeeaaa!

"Shadow," Auriel mutters. "What do you see?"

You glance into the dark. You catch glimpses of movement. But they know you're watching, and they duck out of site behind boulders and outcroppings. You can feel them burrowing in the ground below you. More lie ahead.

<...there's dozens of them. I do not know what they are. They stay out of site.>

"Obis?" Flint asks.

"No idea," he says.

KREEEE-aaaa

Kaaa-reee keee keekee

"...what do they look like?" Auriel asks.

You keep watching.

You manage to spot one clearly. It ducks out of sight, but not before you take it all in.

<...small, perhaps two feet tall. Long arms, ending in large claws. Shorter legs. Its limbs are jointed in many places. It has no visible head. Its torso just ends.>

"Vog," Auriel mutters. "Shit. Shit."

"What?" Flint asks. "What are Vog?"

"...small, burrowing creatures that infest the Timorian Deep." She glances around at the party. "The sounds are to distract us. They're highly intelligent. Plotting an attack as we speak."

<I can sense some below us,> you say. <They're gathering into groups.>

"...they're small, but vicious. Cruelly vicious. And determined. They'll just keep coming."

"How many would you say?"

<...thirty or so. More are arriving at the edge of my senses.> Auriel's face takes a grim cast in the faint light of her orb. <Is that bad?> you ask.

"The more their are, the smarter they get. The more difficult it is to protect yourself."

"What do we do?" Flint asks.

"...we run," Auriel says. "On three, everyone runs. Get ready." Everyone sets themselves. "3. 2. 1. Go!"

You take off at a sprint through the caverns.

Shadow Quest Chapter 27

The party bursts forward. The two horses quickly trot while the rest run as fast as they can.

<Xella, with me,> you say. <We hold the rear.> The succubus moves next to you. <Auriel, Flint, you two take point.> They guide their horses in front of the party. The height should help them clear a path. <Obis, take the center. Support whoever needs it. Joey - stay in the middle.>

Joey looks too frightened to argue. The others nod, and keep moving. With his life-force concealing cloak, Obis will help shore up the gaps - you hope.

The Vog, who have been screeching and shrieking periodically, fall silent. They move quickly, staying abreast of your group with long, galloping strides of their arms.

The ones under the ground move even faster. You sense them split into two burrowing groups. They flank you and Xella.

They dig up toward the surface.

<Xella. Back, and just to your right.>

"I can't sense anything."

<They're coming in two groups. Prepare an attack. I'll take the left.>

The vog burst from the ground behind you! They swarm out of their holes and gallop foward to watch you. Shrill cries echo off the cavern walls.

You seize the Shard.

The energy sits within you like the shadow of a blizzard - cold Isolation. Its the feeling of every connection to every other thing frozen over until it's unrecognizable.

You throw the feeling outward. It blooms out form you, stealing the very life from the air - cold - so cold it doesn't feel cold. But cold, not in the sense of heat - cold, without ANYTHING.

It shocks the cavern in a huge radius.

The Vog go wild. Some fall flat, seemingly dead. Others trip and writhe on the ground, hurting each other and those around them. Still others shriek like mad and burrow back into the ground, or run screaming down the tunnel. Even the Vog surrounding the other sides of your party feel the effects, some turning tail, the rest freezing in place as if cut off from one another.

When you leap at the confused enemy, it's almost unfair. But you already know the world isn't fair. There is only Shadow, and Justice.

You eviscerate them like so many cattle. Your limbs warp and stab through the air, killing them all in an instant. Their blood spills across the ground. Xella throws her magic in exploding balls of flame and shadow, taking out her own distracted group in moments.

You and your demon hurry up back to the flanks of your party as they pass through the still-reeling Vog ahead. Her magic and your shadows tear into them, taking out at least another dozen.

And then, you're through.

<Keep moving! We'll take out any that follow!>

The party begins to grow distant. Auriel's voice echoes back to you. "Don't linger!"

Silence. You feel a few Vog in the earth, scattered here and there, but none grouped together.

<Xella, stand guard.>

"Yes, Shadow."

She goes alert, eyes scanning the dark.

You roil over the bodies of your fallen foes. The dribble of life remaining in each one is sucked into your body as you latch onto their corpses. You become a liquid cloud of acid, dissolving and absorbing every torn up bit.

It gives you a good chance to study them. They have no heads; their jagged, gaping mouths are where their necks should be. Their arms are rotated so that their natural position is hanging up above their bodies. You assume this is helpful for burrowing, or scooping prey toward the mouth.

You consume 6 of the Vog.

There are plenty of Vog to eat...but you can feel the rest of them gathering into a group underneath you. They haven't moved as of yet.

You feel at your Shard of True Darkness. The Isolation lingers there...but it feels...fragile. Used. You feel wary. Perhaps you're better off not messing around with it too much until you fully understand it.

You want to consume the others...but there's no sense pushing your luck. It's time to move on.

<Come. We're heading back.>

You both take wing. You make quick progress up the cavern.

Xella glances at you, then away. Then she looks back at you. She wears a curious expression.

<...what?>

"...it is nothing."

<Ask your questions. You are my servant, but you are not a slave.>

Xella frowns. "...you command me not to eat souls...but you consume them yourself. I could not eat the Vog, myself. But still."

<They'd be a waste, left to rot.> You glide closer to her. <But the difference is, they attacked us without provocation, and we slayed them in battle. Most humans are innocent of any action that deserves the punishment of having their soul stripped from them.>

"...as you say." She doesn't look all that convinced.

You both land for a moment, then take off again.

You almost let the matter drop, but then begin to think once more. Xella has potential - if she can reign in her darker impulses. Perhaps, if you seek understanding, you should offer it yourself.

<Those who seek to take life must be ready to lose their life,> you say. <Those who sought my end only had what they wished to steal from me taken instead. In battle, you make take souls, if necessary.>

"Thank you."

<But only to defend yourself - never to prey upon the defenseless.>

"I need to eat to live," she says. "I can subsist on ambient mana alone, but I will grow weaker. We are predators, Shadow. You are like me in that respect. Humans slaughter and eat their cows. We slaughter and eat them. Such is the order of things."

<Do cows think, and feel? Do cows have souls?>

"Bulls have horns," Xella says. "Intelligence is just a mechanism the developed to defend themselves. Souls are merely a form of motive energy. You yourself salvaged such energy from the Vog." She shrugs her wings mid-flight. "Rather than eat flesh, and crudely digest that energy, I suck it up all at once. Humans are right to fear me, but to say that is evil - is eating, evil, then?" She shrugs again. "I care not. They brought me into existence. They can reap that evil, if that is what they choose to call it."

<What do you mean, exactly?>

"...it is strange, how ignorant you are in some respects. I will explain."

<Consider me young,> you say. <My knowledge is marked with holes.>

Xella nods. "The nether is energy," she says. "Chaotic, unformed energy. Life draws its power from this pool of energy. But have you asked yourself, where, then, do demons come from?"

<I have not.>

"We are made out of that energy," she says. "Humans, and other forms of life, grasp that energy for themselves in the act of birth. But demons are made." She looks at you. "Demons are imagined. It is magic power that creates and brings forward a demon. Artificial life, in a way.

"The form, shape and power of a demon is limited only by the will and power of the mage. Demons can BE anything that can be imagined, assuming someone has enough power to carve that something out of the nether. Common, well-known demons, like fae, and even succubi like myself, are merely templates created for ease of use.

"Demons, at their core, are weapons created by human mages to attack other human mages. What better weapon than one that can think for itself, use magic? One that strikes fear or entrances with its very appearance?" Xella makes a flat smile. "So you see, Shadow, teaching me morality is like teaching a rock how to be water. A rock simply is what it is. The rock might get wet, but the water rolls right off of it."

<...then I must make rocks into water?>

"I suppose so."

<The spell that holds you here is linked to me, isn't it?>

"Indeed."

<Then I'll work on it.>

Xella chuckles. "I see. Let me know how that goes."

<Meanwhile, control yourself.> You stare at her. <I admit that consuming the Vog was for my own selfish purpose. But it made me stronger, and strength is useful. I have few things of worth in this world; my companions among them. I need strength to protect them.>

"I understand the usefulness of power."

<Good.> You look away from her. <But even for all its use, for all I could gain...stripping the soul of another sentient being for no reason, other than to feed...it is wrong.>

"Why?"

<Why is what wrong?>

"Why is it wrong to feed on what is so obviously your prey?" she asks. "You are -higher- than they are. You do not need to eat, or drink. You don't even need to breathe - even I must do that. Even now, it is difficult for me to even see you. I don't doubt you could erase me, should you chose to do so. I have seen swords slip off your skin. I have seen you dodge spears merely by contorting to the side. I have seen you kill ten men at once, all in different directions.

She takes a breath. "You are greater, perhaps, than demons. Your potential may be greater than even the angels. You are an elemental - and not just any elemental. You are superior. Do you not recognize this?"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7LtnLVRvypw

<I am different, but that does not make me greater. I may be stronger and tougher, but I do not judge worth through power. We are all equal in our ability to think, to feel, to suffer, to hope - and if you were wrought by human hands, then I place you among us. If the world worked as you believed, than the Elemental Lords would have long since killed all human life.

<Superior,> you continue. You linger over the word. <You link me superior. How? In that I kill easily? I am Shadow, not Death. I am inferior in many ways. Though there are many things I have that humans do not, I lack many things they have. I was born a feral, emotionless blob of nothing. I have learned - absorbed - so many things beyond power, beyond strength. It is only because of what humans gave to me that the strength I possess has any meaning in the first place. And even if humans are inferior, they value their lives no less than we value ours, and suffer no less keenly when deprived of that life.

<Like you, I am hated for what I am. I have been blamed for evils I have never committed. A stereotype of Shadow traps me, an inherent ignorance that labels each element as if they have some inherent quality. They do not. In this manner, so you have labeled yourself - as if your intelligence, your existence is the lesser, simply because it was made, rather than born.>

"...I am what I am," she says. "I am carved from energy. A golem of magic."

<You belittle yourself,> you say. <You were made from a template, but you are not that template. If you can think, you must therefore have the potential to grow beyond that. It is not what we are, or how others perceive us, that determines our value. It is who we choose to be that is important. The world does not lock us into predetermined motions, simple roles that we must play as if we have no will of our own. What I am - what I will be - will be as I choose, and of my own making. No one else's.

<But moreover, Xella. Might does not make right. Power is not Justice. Justice IS, independent of power, of perception, of good, and evil. And Shadow is Justice.>

You stare into her eyes. <So when I tell you something is wrong, it is because I have weighed the action upon the scales of my morality and found that action wanting of any justification. As long as you accept my will, you will accept my arbitration.>

Xella says nothing. She stares back at you, then nods.

You fly the rest of the way in silence.

You land once more, then continue flying. It isn't long before you hear the clomping of boots and horses on the cavern floor.

You pull even with the group and land, blending your flight into a quick trot alongside Flint's horses.

"You were gone a while," Auriel asks. "Anything happen?"

<A few Vog were gathering underground, but we left them behind. The rest are dead.>

"Good," she said. "We really got lucky."

<Are they that dangerous?>

"They didn't have time to use magic," Auriel says. "Whatever you did took them by surprise. What did you do, anyway?"

<I sent them impressions of...disconnection. It seemed to disrupt their communication.>

"Good work," Obis says.

Something picks at the back of your senses. You feel around your for life, but nothing presents itself. Just a general sense that you're not alone. <Does anyone else feel that?>

You get a chorus of "no's".

You slow slightly as you focus...

The world around you explodes to life. Spiders. Bugs. Worms. Fungi. You can feel them all.

...somewhere...other elements...

But something more immediate grabs your attention.

Five groups of Vog are tunneling in behind you. There's at least 10 Vog with each group, and they're burrowing forward in tight packs a lot faster than the party is moving. Something surrounds them...some kind of shield. Were they hiding themselves?

<More Vog coming up behind us, underground. At least fifty. We need to move faster.>

"Dammit!" Auriel shouts. "Joey! Grab my hand!"

Joey runs over and clasps Auriel's wrist. She hoists him up onto the saddle, then spurs her horse faster. Joey clings to her back as the horse breaks into a gallop.

Obis runs toward Flint. He doesn't need any help to lift himself into the saddle. Flint snaps the reigns, and the horse takes off alongside Auriel and Joey. You sprint alongside them easily; Xella flaps hard to keep up.

The Vog don't gain any more ground, but they don't fall behind, either.

A point of light grows in the distance.

"It's the exit!" Flint shouts. He snaps his reigns again, urging the horse forward.

"Are they still following?!" Auriel asks.

<Yes, but we're keeping ahead of them!>

Auriel looks surprised.

<What's wrong?>

"They can burrow faster than a horse can gallop!"

<They aren't gaining!>

Auriel turns back, but her scowl doesn't go away.

You launch a Shade back toward the Vog behind you. It walks a short distance, then flails around and shrieks a bit.

Two Vog groups emerge from the earth like coordinated sharks. They leap through your shade. It dissipates. The two groups merge into one larger group that burrows back into the ground.

It might have slowed them a few seconds, but it's not what you were hoping for.

You dive into the Shadow of Flint's horse, then Focus ahead of you.

<...oh.>

"What is it?!" Auriel shouts.

<More, up in the ceiling of the cavern!> Their life force blinks at you, Earthen nodes interconnected by sharp lines of Spirit. <Dozens! We've almost reached them!>

"Is there a safe spot?!"

<...they're scattered around, everywhere!>

"If you have any defensive magic, get it ready!" Auriel shouts. "We've got to charge through! Expect Earth and Spirit magic!"

She says that...but you feel as though you're being herded like sheep.

You ride into the attack zone.

Webs of Spirit flare bright, connecting wider groups of Vog. Each group casts its own spell - six, in total. That's the last thing you can clearly see before your Focus fades.

Stalactites begin to form on the ceiling.

You unleash nightflare. For an instant, the world turns into a negative of itself. The images fades. A group of stalagmites quivers to a halt.

The rest shoot toward the party, aided by gravity and magical power both. You raise and stretch your aura over the heads of the horses.

Xella launches blasts of fire, exploding a few of the stalactites, but where she doesn't score direct hits, the earth pushes through with just a few scorches.

Light magic appears over head, bolstering your own defenses. The stalactites rain down on your aura, beating you down. But you hold out.

The Vog underground are burrowing faster. They've almost drawn even with the party.

The light is growing brighter, but the exit to the tunnel is still a ways off.

You blast Shadow Assault up toward the roof of the cave as the Vog emerge.

Spears of shadow collide with stalagmites. Most miss, and soar on to strike the cave. The explosions rip through the air.

The Vog tunneled through the ceiling...and then they used part of it to attack you...and then you tried to blow them up.

The cave rumbles. Cracks spider across the walls. The ceiling begins to collapse. The Vog are desperately trying to dig away, but most of them are falling along with the huge chunks of rock.

This is not good.

You grab Xella and hurl yourself between the two horses. They've pulled up short, whinnying as rocks crash around them.

<BRACE YOURSELVES!>

You throw your body up above the party as hundreds of tons of rock bear down on you.

You're crushed by the weight.

---------------
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You burst out through the rock. You were nearly cut in half by the force...and you're greatly weakened. But you're still alive.

You glance around. Life forces poke out at you. You hear a moan.

You stumble forward across the jagged rubble. <Is anyone there?!>

You stumble around a pile of rock toward the life you can sense.

Auriel and Joey are on the ground. Joey appears unharmed...he's surrounded by a soft white light. It quickly fades, then vanishes. Auriel herself is in rougher shape. One of her legs is broken - you can see the exposed bone of her shin. A long cut across her forehead is bleeding profusely. She must have used most of her power to protect Joey.

Both of them are unconscious.

"Shadow."

You glance back. It's Xella. <Good. Assist me in moving them. We need to get out before the Vog re-coordinate.>

"...get out, with an angel," Xella says. "...this is your chance."

<My chance?>

"Of course. Consume the angel and be done with her."

<What?!>

Xella gives you a look. "Shadow. What do you think will happen when this is done with? She's only here for Donny - even I can tell that. As soon as he's fixed up, you'll be dead weight. All of your goals are opposed by the empire - she won't help you, if she doesn't outright try to stop you. And she'll pull Donny away from you, to boot." Xella shrugs. "Or, you eliminate the problem, here and now."

You stare at Xella for a long time.

You are forced to conclude that she might be a lost cause. Auriel, at least, debated the points with you. Xella simply doesn't acknowledge them. Maybe she can't. Maybe, the fact of the matter is, the magical template of a summon is just that rigid.

The fact sobers you. Demons are dangerous creatures.

The immediate frustration you felt fades. Provoking Xella won't get you anywhere. You say nothing, and turn to Auriel.

You see the Water within you. It's harder to find than the shadow...tucked away in a corner. But you dredge it out, and our it into her wounds.

Her bone makes a nasty crack, but it realigns and swiftly mends. The muscle and skin knit and stitch themselves back together. The cut on her forehead rapidly scabs over, but doesn't fade completely.

She blinks. "...what...Shadow?"

<The cave collapsed. I healed you. Come, up.> You offer her your hand.

She takes it, and you pull her to her feet. "Where's Jo - oh." She kneels next to him. "Oh, thank Light. He's alright." She glances around. "Where's...Donovan?"

<I haven't had a chance to search yet.>

"Hey! Shadow!" You all turn toward the voice. Obis is slowly meandering over a pile of rubble a few yards distant. Blood is running down his face, but he's in one piece. Flint is draped over his shoulder. "They're coming!"

You dash forward to meet them. You stiffen. At least fifteen Vog are swarming toward you not ten yards away.

You grab Obis and Flint. <Hold on!> You soar into the air, barely avoiding the lunging Vog. <Xella! Get Auriel and Joey and get out, now!>

Xella hops to obey your command. Auriel doesn't protest as she's lifted into the air under one of Xella's arms - rather, she prepares a spell. Light twists between her hands.

You fly toward the exit of the cave. It's not far. You've never been so happy to see the sun.

Another group of Vog burst from the ground up and to your left. You can feel them beginning to cast a spell!

A flurry of stalagmites leaps up from the ground to strike you!

You roll to the side, dodging the attack. The rocks smash into the ceiling behind you.

But the weight is far more than you're used to! Your momentum carries you on. Obis shouts as you tumble into the wall.

You're almost out of the cave, but it looks like the Vog are preparing another attack...

You flap as hard as you can to escape the cavern. Xella is churning her wings beside you.

Auriel drops her spell.

You confused for a moment. You hoped it would be something to distract the Vog, at least.

The ball of light splits in two. And then each piece splits. And again, and again. A shower of multiplying white sparks drifts down through the air.

The lights explode in a cacophony of light and sound. Streamers of every color soar through the air, flashing up against the walls of the cave. Booming cracks echo around you like the sound of a hundred spells going off all at once. The Vog spell shrivels up. You can feel them burrowing under the ground.

You make it out of the cave.

The sun is just setting, and everything is cast in red and gold. Plains stretch before you. Scattered stands of trees mark the landscape.

Directly ahead lies a mountain range. The mountains are huge. It makes the Steelback Mountains around Detson seem like toys in comparison. Deep green pine forests rest around their bases, but fade into black, rocky cliffs halfway up the slopes. Almost all the peaks vanish somewhere up into clouds.

You an Xella briefly land. You set Flint out on the ground. Auriel sprints over.

It's the first time you really get a good look at Flint.

A shard of rock has punctured his thigh. Cuts run up and down his arms. His face is pale, and he's losing a lot of blood.

"Donovan!" Auriel throws herself next to him. Gold light is already forming around her fingertips. She presses her hands to his chest.

<...can I help?>

Auriel glances up at you briefly, then sets her face back to her spell. "...I barely have any mana. If you can...we need to heal his leg. He's losing too much blood."

<Understood.> You set yourself down next to Flint. Auriel sweeps her fingers up his arm, focusing on restoring the minor cuts and lacerations.

You look at his thigh. The rock sticking out of it looks a lot bigger close up.

You focus your energy into Flint's leg.

The rock is slowly pushed out. There's a spurt of blood as his heart beats - but then the vein seals itself. You shove hard on the force of water, and you manage to shove some of the blood back in.

The muscle around the vein wavers, then grows back around it. You feel the strain building on your body as you push the spell forward. When you're done, the wound is still exposed - barely scabbed - but its sealed, and most of the color has returned to Flint's face.

Auriel is lying on top of him, shivering. She cries into his chest. She murmurs something - in a language you've never heard before. But you feel the Translation unravel in your mind. "Please don't die."

Flint's hand moves. It brushes the back of her head. "...hey, look."

Auriel draws her head back. Her eyes are red and puffy. "...Donovan?"

"An angel fell out of the sky to save me," Flint mutters. He closes his eyes and sighs. Auriel cries harder.

"Shadow," Obis says. He's spent the last few moments with Joey, tying some bandages on the nastier scratches. "We need to keep moving."

<We do.> You spread your senses thin, and - without any trouble at all - you find the next sigil.

It floats into the air, rotates...and points along the curve of the mountain range, almost due east.

Shadow Quest Chapter 28

<Xella,> you say. <Carry Joey and Obis. I'll take Auriel and Flint.>

Without a word, the succubus moves to collect the young boy. Joey hasn't said much. He's pale, and his eyes are wet. Clearly, he's in a bit over his head.

Obis accepts the demon's embrace stoically. She takes off with both of them in a firm grip.

<Come.>

Auriel doesn't voice a complaint as you wrap a tendril around her waist. She does, however, look back to Flint. "Be careful when you move him. You might reopen the wound."

You nod to her, then gingerly cup Flint under your form. You unfurl your shadowy wings and take off into the skies, gliding up next to Xella.

You fly for a short time, land, and repeat, heading in the direction of the mountains.

After another hour, the sun is almost gone, but you've made good time. The painted cliffs of Tarun Gakth have almost faded down into the horizon. You reason that the Vog probably won't follow you this far from the underground.

You make camp. There are no horses to water, anymore, but thanks to the loss of the horses, and their saddlebags, the party is dreadfully short on food. You manage to hunt down a few rabbits, which make a good enough meal for one evening.

The fire burns low. Eveyone is quiet, contemplating what amounted to a very close brush with death. Auriel sits next to Flint, tending his wound with heated water and a soft strip of cloth. Xella patrols the skies around the camp.

The mood around the campfire doesn't lend itself to conversation, serious or otherwise. You decide that the best thing to do is let everyone work it out for themselves.

You meditate quietly.

You slip into something...a feeling you've had before. Wide, dark space. Tiny pinpricks of light blink at you here, there, everywhere, like a map of stars.

Two of the lights feel different than the rest.

You try to pick them out...discern something about them...but it doesn't come to you. They feel familiar, but you have no power in this strange world you see when you meditate.

When you draw yourself back from the present, it's dawn. Auriel is sitting with her legs crossed, arms resting gently on her knees. The rest are asleep. Xella still scouts the perimeter, keeping strictly to your command.

You turn toward the angel. <Are you awake, Auriel?>

She opens her eyes and nods.

<How is Flint?>

"...not well," she says. "But I've spent the night gathering mana. I should be able to help his injury along over the next few days. My. powers...are not what they were." Her brow bends deep. On her face rests a mixture of frustration and sadness. "...a few weeks past, he would already be completely healed. A few weeks past and we wouldn't even have had that fight."

<I have faith in your ability,> you say. <You distraction helped us escape the Vog...whereas my magic collapsed the ceiling.>

Auriel waves a hand. "They had us surrounded and on the run. The collapse might have been the very thing that gave us a chance to escape...though, it -was- lucky that no one died."

<Perhaps.> You turn away. You should probably do some early-morning hunting.

"...Shadow."

<Angel.>

"...I'm not an angel anymore. My name works just fine."

<What is it, Auriel?>

"When the rocks were about to hit...I saw what you did. If not for that...we wouldn't be here."

<...it was more a reaction, than anything.>

"A good instinct to have." She looks away. "...thank you, for helping me," she says. "And for...me...with Flint."

<...you are welcome.>

You start away. The early morning dew on the grass rolls off your body as you use your senses to locate a new rabbit hole. The plains seem full of them. One piece of good news, at least.

...maybe, just maybe...Auriel is slowly starting to change her mind about you.

But you find yourself changing your mind about Xella. If she truly is as she is, there will be no changing her...unless you fundamentally alter the spell that -is- her existence. As she is now, she could explode as soon as your vigilance wavers.

You are glad to know that Obis can be relied upon. He went back for Flint, and he seems to be a good man in general. But you wonder if he has it in him to return to the position he once held.

Breakfast is a simple affair. Obis was able to save some of the hard biscuits, so the party isn't limited to just pure protein. Auriel uses her gathered mana to work on Flint's wound. The scab improves significantly, and he's able to walk along without problems. You lend him your support as you move forward.

Your party continues to trek across the plains.

<A question, Auriel.>

She glances at you from Flint's opposite side. "Yes?"

<How to you gather mana? I have been unable to do so without a more direct...source.>

She shrugs. "Gathering mana is the most basic of magical skills. Latent energy lingers in the world around us; it merely takes time to collect. Can't you feel it?"

<...yes...but to my perspective, it is immovable.>

She shrugs. "Frankly, I don't know what to tell you. How you can cast spells without first gathering mana is beyond me."

You feel disappointed. Perhaps that ability is within the purview of humans...but not elementals?

"Hey, Shadow," Flint says.

<Sir Flint.>

"Thank you, my friend. You saved my life."

<You would do the same for me.>

Flint smiles, and nods. He glances up at you. "...about Geb...and whatever power lies beneath Jacob's Field...are you sure you want to continue toward those goals?"

<I've never been sure in the first place. It just seems like the right thing to do. Whatever was under the village was in pain. It was crying for help.> You speak so only he can hear. <And...as you know...it called me Erebus. Perhaps, whatever it is, it has answers for me.>

Flint nods. "Answers are well and good...but what about Geb? The Empire keeps people from trespassing on the waste where he dwells. Not that anyone in their right mind would go there anyway - but so it is. Freeing him - ally of the shadow or not - would really stir the pot. The world is unstable enough as it is."

<...I will consider your words.>

Flint nods. "Good."

You continue onward...

Obis glances up. He cocks his head. "...anyone else hear that?"

You focus your senses. Something is coming up the plains from behind you. <I sense something.>

"I as well," Auriel says. You stop, and turn.

Rolling up the grass of the plains is a small, steel box. It feels like Earth magic...mixed with quite a bit of Spirit. But it's not a soul...closer to the power core still in your satchel.

What in the world could it be?

<Ready yourselves,> you say. <Auriel, take Flint.>

You hand off your friend her. "Be careful," she says.

You move to the front of the party. Xella lands just behind you, tense. Obis draws his sword and readies his shield, and stays back next to Joey and Flint.

You slink out to the right, away from the party. The steel box follows you. You use Focus.

A small core of Earth and Spirit powers the center of the box. You can detect hints of all the elements working in harmonic concert. Surprising...but then, you realize that they are carefully compartmentalized. Separated. Opposites are set far away from one another.

You still have no idea what the thing actually is.

<Xella. What is this?>

"I am unfamiliar," she says. "I think it can move faster than that, though. It isn't using its full power."

You have the sense she's correct. The core isn't really pushing itself...if it even is a "self".

You Impress the box with a mixed feeling of greetings and curiosity.

The steel box rolls up a few yards in front of you, then stops.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ia2VhQD5Y4I

It opens up...then begins to unfold. Slowly at first, and then more of the unfolding pieces begin to unfold themselves. It continues to grow, as if assembling itself - and assemble it does. Green lines of energy connect larger portions of green-grey metal. An incredibly large amount of material was packed extremely tight within that simple box.

When the box finishes assembling, before you stands a steel construct - but one more humanoid than any you have seen before.

"Greetings," says the robot in a metallic, echoing voice. "I am unit 234.X4-B, from City 001. I have been programmed with updated linguistics for means of emergency communication as per the most recent interpretation of Derivative 29.3.1. I am here to investigate the recent disturbance in Shadow energy as conjoined with my mission to retrieve extant wild power cores."

You glance at Xella. She eyes you sidelong, then shrugs.

You look back to the construct. You see no reason to be aggressive - this robot seems a bit more open to conversation than the last you came across - so you decide on a straightforward explanation. <The recent disturbance was likely...me. I am a Shadow elemental. I was traveling through Tarun Gakth with my companions.> You gesture to Xella, and your party behind you. <I did not mean to disturb you, or yours, however...though I am unfamiliar with City 1.>

"I see. Once again, I am 234.X4-B. May I inquire as to your name?"

<Shadow will do. This is Xella,> you say, indicating the demon. Xella smiles and curtsies. Do you have a...simpler name?>

The construct pauses for a moment. "Steward 2, Mobile Form. -Steward- is acceptable."

<Well, Steward,> you say. <We're in a hurry. So if you have business with me...>

"The Shadow is aligned with the Earth," the construct says. "I am glad to see that the power core has fallen into good hands. However, I request that it be returned to us. Many outmoded constructs were, unfortunately, unstable, and had to be put down. Retrieving their energy cores is an important task."

<On who's authority do you act?> you ask. <What is this City 1?>

"City 1 is the semi-permanent residence of the Constructs, Golems, and Processor-Engines as designated by Derivative 4.5.1. Its exact location is classified, as directed by Derivative 4.5.4. I act on my own authority."

<...what I meant was, who is your leader? Who gives the orders?>

"I am the mobile thought-copy of Processor-Engine 234.X4-A, known as Steward. I am the leader of City 1. However, I do not give orders. City 1 is comprised of 23,546 individual mind-states, which first come to consensus, and then act as one body."

You feel stunned. Before you stands the leader of a race of Constructs that you didn't even know existed until just a few moments ago.

<I don't understand. I thought the dwarves were wiped out in the Elementomachy. How did you come to survive?>

"I see the line of your logic," Steward says. "However, such information is ultimately irrelevant, and classified."

<You just said I was an ally.>

"In element, in theory - yes," Steward says. "But times change, and so do allegiances."

You ponder that for a moment, then look back to him. <What do you need the power core for?>

"We do not have the means to create more such power cores," Steward says. "The construction of their housing is unknown to us. Therefore, we ask that you return it."

<I would point out that the -wild- construct in question attacked me, and thus taking the core to incapacitate it seemed justified.>

"I see," Steward says. He gives a mechanical nod. "You did what was necessary to defend yourself. We are attempting to deal with this problem in a methodical manner, but Tarun Gakth is not of insignificant size.>

<Indeed. However, to reaffirm what I believe should be friendship between Earth and Shadow, I will return this to you.>

Steward's lips turn upward with a click. "Excellent."

<But before I do...>

"Yes?"

You heft the power core in a Shadow fist. Earth magic swirls in its depths. <I held onto the core with the intent to look into the methods of their construction - doing so without a specimen would be rather difficult. I believe, as an elemental, I am in a unique position and possess unique perspective to understand what allows these cores to take form.>

"I see. The idea has merit."

<If you and yours would be content to remain allies with myself, I would be willing to share the fruits of my research upon its completion. Of course, that would be easier if this one remained in my possession...>

"I see." Steward gives a mechanical nod. "One moment."

A spout of spirit shoots out from Steward's back. It flies off, then dissipates.

A long, quiet moment passes. You look back at the party. They make a bunch of faces at you. You send them an impression of patience, and hopefulness.

A line of Spirit suddenly shoots back into Steward. He looks at you. "The collective has decided to seek the return of the power core, immediately."

<...I see.>

"However," Steward says, "an alliance with forces of Shadow is thought to be potentially fruitful. And yet, it has been long since Earth and Shadow fought together." Steward looks at you directly. "If you will permit me, I will observe your affairs on behalf of the Constructs, and on this basis, we shall judge whether to open formal diplomacy with you. I will not interfere in your affairs - to help, or to harm. Merely observe. If there truly exists an opportunity to discover a method to create more power cores, as you claim, then it will arise during the course of my observation."

<...as potential allies, could you give me a bit more information about the Constructs, and City 1?> you ask.

"No," Steward says simply.

<Those terms are acceptable,> you say. You raise the power core, and Steward holds out a hand. You hesitate, and look him in the eye. <The Shadows do not take betrayal kindly.>

"This is noted." Steward takes the core. "Neither does the Earth."

<Have you ever seen constructs of Shadow, or cores made of Shadow?> you ask. <Creating such a one might be easier for me.>

Steward pauses for a moment. "...yes, but they were all lost in the Elementomachy. It is thought that cores of any element are possible."

<And, as to my current goal,> you ask, <have you noticed a young girl with a spirit mage pass through your lands? They are both strong in Spirit magic.>

"Not two days past," Steward says. "That was within the canyons, on the other side of the worm-made cavern. After that, I know not what became of them."

You're only two days behind. Just two days! You feel a budding sense of excitement.

You glance at Steward.

<Let us be off. If you have questions, let me know.>

"Understood."

Steward follows behind, remaining in his "unfolded" humanoid state. <Why were you in that smaller form?>

"My compact size if for stealth, energy conservation, and faster linear movement," it says.

<I see.>

You get back to your party. It takes you a moment to explain all the particulars. You carefully avoid mentioning around Auriel that the duke is investigating power cores to undermine the empire's monopoly on airship maintenance and repair.

Flint just smiles. "Well, the more the merrier, I suppose. We've got a living shadow, why not a construct?"

"Forgive me my skepticism," Auriel mutters dryly.

"I'm with Flint," Obis says. "Hell. Leftover constructs from the dwaves? Imagine the secrets they're holding onto!"

"Unfortunately, that information is classified," Steward says.

"Ah, you'll come around. The Shadow's a friend worth having, let me tell you."

"That remains to be seen," Steward says neutrally. "Unfortunately, your testimony is biased through previous interaction."

Obis raises an eyebrow. "How...logical."

Joey's eyes are like saucers. "A talking golem." He looks at Flint and points at Steward. "A talking golem!!" Joey sidles up to the construct.

"Joey, stay away from that thing!" Auriel calls.

"Hey, did the dwarves really make you?" the boy asks.

"No. I was made in City 1. The dwarves created my thought-copy-template, Steward 1."

"So...you're like, the grandson."

Steward cocks his head. "A crude metaphor, but not inaccurate."

"Cool!" Joey says.

Auriel sighs. Flint smiles a murmurs something to her, but she doesn't seem very appeased.

The party continues onward...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoZnQNtrO2k

------
...traveling...
------

Joey continues to talk Steward's ear off. Steward answers the hundred questions plainly, and without much embellishment - but you notice he avoids giving away any information of serious import. The best you can gather is that City 1 is located either in Tarun Gakth, or in the Timorian Deep underneath it. Since it's gone this long without discovery, and the dwarves also lived underground, you'd put your money on the Timorian Deep. If you had money. And if you had any inclination to gamble.

To travel faster, you and Xella continue to fly the party. Stewart can run fast enough on the ground to keep up if you fly at a medium pace.

Auriel focuses on healing Flint's leg. It's getting much better - he says he could put up a fight, now.

The parasite has been quiet for some time. You hope it stays that way. He could use a break.

You find several more sigils, and they paint a straight line in the ground.

It's getting colder. You remark upon this to Auriel, who says it's because the plains leading up to the Valendraks actually slope up quite steeply. You're gaining altitude. That, and fall is really starting to set in.

By the time you reach a river that your party declares the Palorian, you've traveled for three days. You hope you've made up some time on your friends.

The next sigil points you north, upriver. Auriel is rather certain, from having sailed the river several times in her long experience, that Palthair, a vast mining town, is only a day or two north.

After a night spent in rest, you're pretty sure Flint is back to 100%. He's been quiet the past few days, but now his wounds are totally gone, and he's back to his normal self. Auriel's mood improves exponentially with his health. A few times, you're pretty sure she event forgets you're the Shadow she's supposed to hate.

When Steward is not patiently speaking to Joey in his mechanical monotone, you can feel his eyes on you. He's said nothing regarding his observations. You wonder what he's looking for.

It begins to snow.

Soon enough, you arrive outside Palthair. The sun has an hour or so in the sky; a dusting of snow covers everything. The town is nestled in the crook of the mountains, continuing lengthwise for some ways up and down the slopes. At the head of the many creeks that converge to form the Palorian, it boasts impressive architecture.

"The city is an important city," Auriel says to the party, mostly to you and Joey, as it comes into view. "Over 60% of the empire's mineral resources come from the vast mines here, which are funneled down the Palorian and out for trade at Port Vanta. Tin, Iron, Copper, Silver, and even Adamantium. That's one reason it's protected by Gaphold at one end, and Wallfront at the other." She glances at you. "Before the elementomachy...Paloir was a country. Rich, prosperous. Peaceful. It was where the Black Hand first struck, after consolidating Temerland, to region north of the Valendraks. It became the meeting ground of many armies, and the war shattered the Frontier into constant chaos." She looks back to the town. "Eventually, the Empire joined Ulund in reestablishing Palthair, and it has since slowly healed into what it is today."

<I see,> you say.
"I see,> Steward says.

You glance at each other, nod, then look away. Auriel fingers her temples. "...anyway. The last sigil clearly pointed to the town.What's the plan?"

You glance at Steward. <Do you have a means of blending in with...humans, perhaps?>

"Indeed." Steward seems to pause a moment. A bit of the shadow and spirit him in flares slightly. The green energy panels on his outsides glow. A moment later, he takes the form of a nondescript man with brown hair, brown eyes, and dressed in normal traveling clothes. You wouldn't glance twice at him. "Is this acceptable?"

<Perfect.>

You morph into your human form. <Let's get moving.>

You walk into the town, keeping to the main road. It's relatively quiet. The party leaves a trail of footprints behind them. You inch up towards your truest and most loyal companion, Sir Flint. <Flint. A word.>

"Mmm?"

<Well...acting human...is...new, in a sense. I will require guidance.>

Flint grins and slaps you on the back. "I've got you. Might want to try talking out loud, though."

You create a passage through which to speak normally. "...how do I sound?"

"A little deeper than I'd expect," Flint says, "but normal enough. Just don't sprout an extra arm or something dumb like that."

<Right. Proportion is everything.> You frown slightly. You're quite used to bending and warping every which way as it's convenient. Now, you'll actually have to -turn- to reach something. How...restricting.

You enter the town. It's quiet. Lights burn in many houses, but the streets are empty but for a few passerby crunching through the snow. You receive some curious looks, but nothing more.

Auriel seems confused.

"What is it?" you ask her, to practice your new voice.

"...it's quiet," she says. "I just finished telling you how important this town is. It doesn't just stop during the snow. They're used to it." She glances at you. "I just realized something. On our way up, I didn't see a single boat going downriver. There's usually more boats than water." She frowns deeply. "Something's up."

"I will stay alert." You glance at Xella, who should merely appear as a normal human to any that see the party. "Xella. Stay modest, and subdued. We don't want attention."

"As you say," she says simply.

She's been giving you one-word answers for a while, now. Obviously, there's a disconnect there.

<Auriel,> you say, <I am speaking so that only you can hear.>

Auriel looks at you, but, taking the hint, says nothing.

<I believe...we need to rid ourselves of Xella, as soon as possible. She is unstable, and cannot be trusted.>

Auriel goes blank. She walks over to you, and you both hang back slightly, away from the others.

Slowly, her eyebrow raises to the top of her face. "Are you saying I'm right?" she whispers.

<...you were absolutely correct. If a demon is based in magic, there is no changing a demon.>

Auriel nods. "Then we should do it tonight. Desummoning is simple; just a matter of -willing- it, so I understand. We can support you, in that."

<...tell me. If Xella is unable to change, because of what she is...is that why you believe I cannot change?>

Auriel says nothing, but her expression speaks volumes.

<I am not like her,> you say firmly.

"You don't know that," Auriel says. "You have no memories. You admitted as much."

<But look at my actions. Have they not spoken for me, as even you said they would?>

"Unless you..." Auriel stops, then starts again. "Unless, the act of gaining trust is completely intentional...and betrayal comes only when it is unexpected. How are you to know you aren't merely the summoned creature of a powerful mage? How are you to know that you yourself aren't being controlled right this moment? Your nature hides any insight into your being and form. I've...I admit I've tried to discern that, many times. But I cannot. That is why I can't trust you, Shadow. You can't even trust yourself." She leans forward. "What if you -were- made? What if, at the worst possible moment, you are forced beyond your control to attack us? What if - " She lowers her voice even further. "You were sent to ensure Flint did not rid himself of that parasite? Why is it you can see it, and no one else...nothing else but a demon?"

You send Auriel an impression of worry, and concern. But that concern swiftly hardens into determination.

<If I'm secretly evil and trying to gain your confidence, nothing I say can convince you otherwise,> you begin. <I am worried by the prospect that a summoned creature might not realize its own nature, but the seer was able to see the parasite just fine, and he seemed to have confidence enough in my presence with Flint. But even if it were the case that I am being controlled,> you say, <I can't do anything about it. I've no choice to proceed as if I'm not. If we operate on your assumption, then what is to stop us from believing that everyone and everything is simply a magical construct adhering to its programming? How do I know you are not a cleverly disguised demon sent to stop me?>

"That's ridiculous," Auriel hisses.

<Is is possible for summons to be of the light element?>

"I'm telling you that is - "

<Is it possible?>

"...they can be of any element. But Shadow and Spirit are many times more common, as some component of them is required in summoning magic."

<There you are. I could just as easily wonder if your downtrodden angel act is just that - an act put on to investigate me and gain my trust, for some purpose I do not yet understand.>

"...you don't actually believe that." She gives you a sober look. "Do you?"

<Of course not,> you say. <It's obviously a stupid idea. So, perhaps, you could admit the same, and grant me at least the fact that I'm in control of my own sensibilities.>

"But - "

<If I were sent to look after the parasite, I would not have brought it to his attention in the first place. I would not have tried to harm it. Surely my -programming- would have stopped those sorts of things.>

"...a fair point," Auriel admits. "...I suppose...that either way, it is what it is."

<More importantly, we need to get rid of a known unstable variable - Xella.>

"...alright. We do it tonight."

<Angel,> you say. You stop, and begin again. <Auriel.>

"...what?"

<Two things,> you say. <If...it comes to it. If I am being controlled.> You look at her with your human eyes. <I will rely on you to do what is necessary.>

Auriel nods grimly.

<Just try not to be too eager.>

You're not entirely comfortable with the smile that grows on her lips. "Just be sure to keep in line." Her face goes serious again. "And the second thing?"

<It's...about Jacob's Field. During the battle, I - >

"Are you two arguing -again-?" Flint says. He comes over and rests and arm around Auriel, all smiles. "You can pontificate about the meaning of the universe another time. We're here."

<Where's here?>

Flint points. You glance up at the sign for a tavern. It's a large, three-story building with plenty of noise tumbling out onto the snow-covered street. Engrossed in your conversation, you've hardly noticed the crowded buildings.

Flint starts talking to Auriel, and guides her in the door. You don't get a chance to tell her about the voice. But then...perhaps you should think about that carefully.

Either way, you'll be seeing her later tonight.

The bar is relatively crowded. It gets noticeably quiet as the patrons take your large party in, and then the noise starts up again, glasses clinking, the sound of taps snapping open and closed, mugs thumping on wood.

Flint and Obis deal with the tavern keeper and arrange for enough space to keep the party comfortable. Yourself, Xella, and Steward will share a room. Neither you nor Steward mind the arrangement, but Xella seems frustrated watching Flint and Auriel take their own quarters.

Auriel throws Xella a pointed look, and flips her the bird as she and the knight walk up the stairs.

For a moment, you see an ugly rage flash over Xella's face. And then the next moment, she's calm as could be.

You make your way to your rooms. Xella twiddles her thumbs and sighs impatiently. You and Steward sit at a table in silence.

Something comes to mind. <Where's the power core?>

Steward taps his chest. A break in his illusion shows a metal plate. It snaps open, revealing a storage compartment, wherein rests the core. He taps the plate again, and it seals itself back up.

<How are your observations?> you ask.

"They are as they are," Steward answers cryptically.

<Steward,> you say. <You wanted to observe me. In that case, follow me.> Wordlessly, Steward stands from the table. You head out of the room. <Xella stay here.>

Xella sighs loudly.

<Is that understood?>

"Yes, mast - Shadow."

<Good.> You exit the room with Steward behind you and walk to Auriel and Flint's room. You open the door.

Flint and Auriel are standing in the back of the room. Their mouths are locked onto each other. Flint's hand is working its way down Auriel's back.

<Auriel, have you informed Flint as to our plan?>

They both jump what seems to be a few feet in the air. Flint grins and rubs the back of his head, but Auriel blushes deep red. "Dammit, Shadow, you -knock- on people's doors!"

<Ah, yes. I forgot. Well?>

"...I was getting to it." Auriel clears her throat. "Flint. The Shadow has admitted I'm right about the demon, and that it needs to be banished as soon as possible - that is, tonight. Speaking of, where is it?"

<In my room, ordered to stay put.>

"Good. That'll do as well as anything. We can pin her there and have this done quickly."

Flint frowns. "...Shadow...not to argue in favor of keeping a demon around...but..."

"But what?" Auriel says. She folds her arms. "Sounds like you're going to say something along exactly those lines."

"Well," Flint says, "she's been pretty valuable. In battle, guarding camp. That sort of thing."

"She could go off at any moment," Auriel says. "Or maybe you've developed a fondness for her, is that it?"

"N-no!" Flint says. "Why would I - "

"That's what I thought," Auriel says.

Well...

<Do you have an opinion, Steward?>

"You would be foolish to trust any demon, but a subdued demon makes a useful tool," Steward says. "The choice, ultimately, is yours. I - we - are not experts on the subject of demonology."

You think for a moment.

And you come to your decision.

It's too risky. Until you can alter the summoning spell itself, you judge it flawed.

<She poses too great a danger to the rest of you,> you say. <It's time to be done with this.>

When you go to retrieve Obis, you find him already set to go. Joey has fallen asleep on the bed. You explain the situation, and he nods and follows you back toward your room.

"She'll suspect something immediately," Auriel tells you. "Desummoning is a contest of wills. Catch her by surprise after you open the door, and force her back."

You nod, and place your hand on the door.

You burst in through the door.

Xella is standing in the middle of the room - and she's ready for you.

You shove your will at her. She buckles to one knee. The glow of a summoning sigil appears under her. Despite her readiness, you're winning.

She looks up at you. "...I...could feel you all...I hate you..." She stares at you. "...naive...idiotic...ignoring your own power for bags of flesh and blood...I hate you...I HATE YOU!"

Her will pushes back on yours, hard. She forces her existence into this reality, and it's working. Her emotions are raging into you like hammers.

You realize something.

Pushing Humanity onto this thing is a wasted exercise. That's what you've been doing - wielding your humanity as a weapon. And she's ignored it - because she's flawed. She has no Humanity.

But she does have Temerity.

You slam her with it. She crumples to the floor. You grab that part of you - cold. Callus. Calculating. Forceful. There is no good, or evil. Only Justice, and the power to carry it out.

Xella tries to claw back to her feet -

- and Aurel's sword meets her torso straight on. Auriel grunts, and rips her blade out through Xella's flank. She steps back as the succubus flails and screams.

And slowly, the dark hole starts to swallow her up. She begins to disintegrate - magic, forced back into the nether, back to raw, uncarved energy. You feel her resistance fade to nothing. You've won.

And then it stops. Her disintegration begins to undo itself.

Something is wrong.

Her form begins to regenerate.

"Take her right!" Auriel says. She nimbly heads left. "Shadow, stay center!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mivXvvpQeK0#t=30s

Flint and Obis surround the writhing form in the center of the room from the other side. You stand around it, watching. You try to press your will at it.

You're met with something that isn't Xella.

Something huge.

Something terrifying.

A thousand eyes stare back at you.

A chill is cast over the room. Your three companions flinch backward. Even Steward crouches low, just at your shoulder.

H̵́e̵̵͘l͠͠l̵o̧..̡͜.͏E̢re̴͟b̨u̶̕s͞.̛ ́͝H̸̛ow̨͘̕ ͘҉h͢a̶͡v̸̡̀e̷ ͞͞y̸̡͟o͡ų ̡͜b͏e̡͢é̵͢n͢͏̵?̸̨̕

<...what? What are you?!>

The thing picks itself off the ground. The flesh is rotted and warped. A eyeball grows at the end of what was once Xella's arm.

D̨ơn̛'t̸ y͜o̵u̸ ̕rec̵ogni҉ze ̕yo̶ưŕ ҉o͡ld̸ fr͏iend?́ Y͘o̶ur old a̢r͜b͏it͞e̷r o̡f th̀a̴t͡ si̶ll͏y͞ th̕in̨g ̷you cal͜l just̀i̧cé?́

<My...what?>

The thing laughs. You feel as though you've been dipped in icewater. And you feel fear.

You̢ don'͞t ̷rememb̧er͏ ̵a th̨i͘ng.̧ B̕u̸t͢..̴.̢yo͠u ar͞e͏n҉'t͢ Er͡e͟b̷u̸s̶, ̨a͢re ͏yo͘ư. ̨Not͘ re͡ally̢. How ͡p̡at҉he̕t͡ic.

<What are you talking about?> You let your illusion drop. <Explain yourself!>

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZ1sZdvOocE

Ęxpl̡ai̵n͏ m͟ysel͜f? The thing laughs again. You͟, de̵m̷a̷n̨d҉i͠ng̷ aņyth͠ing̸, ́o͠f ̨m͝e̷? Y̶ou,̛ ͜a͠ ͝shar͠d ơf͝ a śh̢a̕rd o͞f̷ S͜hadow? You a͢re͏n't̴ ̵Ér̸e͢b̴us.̸ ̧Y҉o̶u̧'r҉e͏ ̕n̷o͠t͝h̶i͢ǹg. ̧S̨h̷am̴e͠ ̀on ̧me ́fo̷r ̸t̛h͏i͞nki͏n͏g̢ o̕t҉h͘e͘rw̕ise҉.̷

T́h̷is ͜f͞o͠rm ͡įś d̛ęl̸iça̵te̶,̶ ̡bu̡t̨ ͟it͞ ̴wi͝l͢l ͜dǫ. Fe͡a͘r͝ m͝e̷,͟ ̕Sha̡d̕ow...̨f́oŕ a̵l͜l e͢lem͏e͢n̵ts ͝fear̀ ͠me̢.͢ ͝Anḑ y̸o͠u͜ w̛įl͠l͡ kn҉o͏w̛ m̶e ͠-̨ ̛f҉or̢ I͡ am ͘Le͟gi̕o͝n.̢

It raises a hand.

I͜ t͘h҉ín͠k̵ ̵I'll͟ eras͠e̡ ̴you, f̷i͞rst..͘.an͝d̡ ̶t̢he͏n, ҉tò ̡bus̶in̵es̶s.

You leap to the side as a ray of black escapes the thing's hand. It catches you on the side. You feel a searing pain.

It's darker than dark. You can see into the dark - it holds no fear for you. But this isn't darkness. It's emptiness.

What the ray strikes, it strips away, -unmaking- it as it touches things. Steward barely ducks away as it blasts through the door, widening into the cone that continues straight through the building and on.

But though you took a hit, you're in perfect position to attack. It's arm is out, and its leaning forward. It begins to turn toward you...

And your limbs rip up into it, chopping off the arm in an instant. It shrieks and stumbles backward. Even as you watch, the limb begins to rapidly grow back. It steps back toward the window -

- but Obis's shield catches it right on the side. It tumbles backward, and Auriel lands a nasty slice all the way down its leg.

You have initiative.

You lunge toward the creature.

It wildly waves a hand up over its body, shooting another black ray. It catches you almost straight-on.

The ray eats through the roof of the tavern, and through half the floor. The room cracks in two.

But your companions aren't deterred. They swarm the creature even as you fall back, hacking off its limbs, smashing it into the wood.

The room groans heavily.

The thing still struggles, still alive.

You sprint forward and dive at the creature.

You roil over its limbs.

And just like anything else...

...YOU CONSUME IT.

As its body disintegrates into your form, briefly, you feel a flood of power...

...and then, it's shut off like a tap. But not before you CONSUME a substantial portion of it.

The house continues to lean.

You friends lose their balance and slide to the wall. You tumble down with them. Steward buries a hand in the wood and hangs on.

Support beams crack like dry twigs as the third story of the tavern collapses sideways like a deck of cards.

D̢i̴d͠ yo̶u ̶get͟ ̢a ͜l͝i͘ttle̴ ̶pòw͞er back͠ fr͝o͝m ̴tha̸t?̶ ́I̷t͘ ͡d̶oe͡s̵n͢'͞t ͘m̶àt͏t͡e͘r̴, lit͞tle Shad͟oẃ. B͘eca̴use ͝y̛o͡u'͟ll ҉f͞i͏nd͝ ̸th͡a͝t̢ I ͜k̵e͢e̸p̀ ͝c͘om̨in̶g͏ ̀b͘a҉c̛k.́.̴.̧

́A͡g͠a̛i̶n͞..͜.͞
͞
And̛ ͟ag̶ai̸n̶.̨.́.

A̢̛̠̹̤͓͔̤n҉͇̰͎̖͙̻͙̝͈d̸̕͏̣̺̗̺̱͔ ̰̣̬̩́͡a̩̲̹̞͡g̴̷̙̬̻͉̥a̢͓̖̖͓̹̟̩͟i̶̤͍n̹̥͜.̶̢͓̀.͎͢.̱̘͕̪̻͎͚


Ä̵̴̗͓͉̘͈̬̣̻̼͚̖̣͖̠͋ͨ̈́̃͊̎̋̉̋̓ͦͧ̽͠N̶̛͖̭͚̺̼̓͒̾̉̉͘͠͝Ḑ̱̟̩͔͎̭͙̻̫͎̟͕̹͕͎̯̣̝ͩ̏́͑̀̒̾̊ͮ̅͂ͤͣ̈ͫ̚̕̕͟ ͭ͛̂̋̒̚͞҉̪̩̟̲͈̠̻͟A̲̬̖̖̮͚̪͔̿͑ͭͭͯͫ̊̌ͪ̽͐́̈́ͬ̏̏͂͡͠G̸̵̓̑ͪ̎̅͋̽́̍͆ͤͤ̄ͧ҉̪̳̱̩̫͚̺̭̬̯ͅĂ̸̵ͥ̅͏̴͖̰̺̰͕̭̯͞I̭̤̪̮͙̣̩̮͚̩̻̞̻̳ͭͬ͑̔̂͑ͯ͋͊̕͢N͊̊̀͊ͬ͌̈͢͏̨͙̝̰̯̲̤̲̣̗̩̦̹̝
The house crashes to the ground. You desperately ride it out as wood flies around you.

Everything is quiet. You poke your way out of the timber. The night sky is cloudy. The snow continues to steadily fall.

The echo of the voice fades, and this time, you think its presence is gone for good.

At least, for now - if its threat holds true.

Noise makes you jerk in surprise. Auriel and Flint emerge from the wood like divers coming up for breath. They glance at each other, then at you.

Obis and Steward are next.

"...everyone ok?" Obis asks.

"Yeah," Flint says.

"Totally fine," Auriel answers.

"Well. That was lucky."

"You know, Shadow," Obis says, as he extracts himself from the "you really come in hand some times. I wasn't sure how we were going to kill that thing. Whatever it was."

<It seemed to think I was something I'm not,> you say.

"It called you Erebus," Auriel said.

<...yes.>

Auriel looks at you.

"...you, Erebus."

<It seemed confused about that, really,> you say nervously. <I don't - >

Auriel starts laughing. She slaps a piece of wood and bends over double. "You - you, Erebus?! You've got to be kidding me!"

<...it isn't that funny...is it?>

"You're a blob of Shadow. How could you be Erebus?" Auriel addresses you in a tone reserved for 5-year olds. "I've SEEN Erebus. You realize this? If you were him, I think I'd know it. Hell, I'd feel it. We all would." She waved a hand. "Maybe when you ate that dynamo, you sort of reminded me of him...in the way a cloud remind you of a thunderstorm. Whatever that thing was, its mind was corrupted beyond belief."

Well, at least that problem is solved, one way or another.

"...hey, guys?" calls Joey. You all look up. Standing on a tiny platform still supported by one beam is Joey, his hair still messed from bed. "...uh...what happened?"

"It demands rather in-depth explanation," Steward says.

Obis chuckles. "Yeah...that's one way of putting it."

"People," Flint says, "We have company."

You realize people are starting to surround the tavern. A lot of people.

...and something's off about them.

You can't quite place it.

You quickly adapt your normal form and join your companions. Joey nervously ducks back into a half-collapsed nook.

"Uh," Flint says.

"Real eloquent, there," Obis mutters. "I'll handle this." He steps up in front. "Good people. An explanation is at hand, if you'll lend me your ears."

"None will be required," comes a dry, rattling voice.

You stiffen. That sounded like Adavan.

"No torches," Auriel says. She glances around. "None of them have torches. It's practically pitch black."

You realize she's right.

A man in dark robes steps forward from the crowd. He draws back his cowl.

Auriel's eyes widen. Her mouth drops open. "...Magnock."

"...I know your face," the lich says. "...Auriel."

"...you can't be alive. You should be dead!"

Magnock chuckles long and slow. He drags a new breath through rotting teeth. "Dead? How can you kill something that's already died, I wonder?" He slowly casts his gaze on Flint, you, and Obis. "...hmm...Adavan's friends, no doubt." Magnock raises a hand. The tip of his staff glows. The people of the town begin to shuffle forward.

In the distance, you hear a slow, even rumbling. After your battles, you know that sound well - the footsteps of a golem. Or several golems.

"He'll be happy to see you," Magnock says. "I've almost broken him. And after he's done with...the girl, and the rest of you." Magnock grins. "What a joy to have my old nemesis as my personal slave. I'll have plenty of fun with you, Angel."

Auriel tightens her grip on her sword. "You're old, you rotting sack. Weak."

"And I've been busy rebuilding." Magnock's grin grows larger. "But it looks like you're the pot calling the kettle black, my lovely -Highest-." He licks his decayed lips with a tongue that's just a bit too long. "I'm looking forward to seeing how every part of you tastes."

You glance at Flint, and you see a look on his face you've never seen before - a murderous rage, barely restrained.

Your party backs itself into a circle as the enslaved townspeople draw closer. Magnock laughs again.

Shadow Quest Chapter 29

"Shit," Obis mutters. "Auriel, you know this lich?"

"...an old enemy, from a long time ago." You stand in the middle of your companions. Their eyes shift back and forward over the approaching crowd. Magnock hasn't moved. "Watch his staff. He knows powerful mind magic. These people are innocent, but..."

"But we don't have much of a choice," Obis says.

"If we can slay Magnock, or at least disrupt his concentration, they'll be freed," she says.

"Oh, great." Obis rolls his eyes. "All we have to do is reach the lich on the other side of the mind-controlled horde. No problem. I have mentioned I don't know any magic?"

"...Shadow could do it," Flint says.

Auriel glances at you, then back to the people. "Maybe."

Joey is still up in the tiny fragment of the tavern still standing, safe, for the moment.

You're almost out of room to back up.

The rumbling sound in the distance is increasing in volume...and tempo.

<Try to hold out,> you say. <I'll take him down.>

A new found strength surges through you. You burst off your feet and into the air.

Glowing whips of Spirit magic snap up at you. You didn't expect the sudden attack, and one of them catches you in the side - but it's only a glancing blow.

You fly across the crowd in an erratic pattern, dodging what is rapidly become a continual flurry of Spirit attacks from Magnock. But your speed keeps you safe.

You unleash Nightflare, hoping to disable some of the magic!

Abruptly, the stream of magic is cut off. Magnock freezes.

Now's the time.

In an instant, you Blink. The world drags blurs as you warp through space. You come out of the teleport just behind your target.

You blast forward a single arm, as hard as you can with all your might behind it.

Your attack goes right through him. Magnock's form wavers, and vanishes.

You hear an ugly cackle from above you. You glance up to see the lich perched on a nearby rooftop. A orange missile speeds toward your position!

You dive away as top speed.

The missile cracks into the ground. An explosion rocks the cobblestone street behind you, throwing up dirt and snow. Tendrils of snaking orange energy burst out in a net, searing and disintegrating a dozen mindless slaves. A few bits lash your back, but you escape nearly unscathed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OofO--3wZPQ

A booming sound rumbles under your feet. You turn. Thundering down the main street of Palthair are two giant flesh golems. They're hulking monstrosities, knitted together from a hundred corpses. Their flesh trembles and warps even as you watch them move. They smash through two enchanted townsfolk without a second thought on their way straight toward you.

Magnock is controlling the beasts. If he dies, so do they.

You Focus.

The world flashes with life. You see lines of power connecting Magnock to the townspeople, and his golems...not the spells themselves, but the flow of energy.

You feel two pinpricks far below you...both of Spirit...one is vague, but the other...

...Abigail. She's under the town. Likely in the mines.

Three much more powerful sensations of Spirit grab your attention. Two are...foggy...indistinct. But a third feels -real-.

You pause a moment. You wrap an arm around a iron hitching post, rip it out of the street, and throw it at the golems. It catches one in the leg, making it tumbles to the ground. Hopefully that slows it down somewhat.

You race toward the real Magnock - he's in an alley, sitting complacently on a wooden crate in the middle of the tight intersection. His eyes are closed in concentration.

You grab a wooden crate and chuck it at him. It explodes in midair before reaching him, contacting what appears to be some kind of barrier made out of Spirit.

He opens his eyes and stands up. "Interesting. An Angel traveling with a Shadow summon? You're quite a strong one." A golem steps out from the intersection. And you realize another - the one you didn't trip up - has pinned you into the alley from behind. "But I am stronger," Magnock finishes.

You've got his attention...your sense of his other, indistinct 'selves' vanishes. At least your companions won't have to worry about being flanked. Hopefully they can hold out against the townsfolk.

You quickly form a plan. It's not subtle, but it should get your point across.

You glance around. The alley is empty. There's nothing to throw.

Well. There's a wood building on either side of you

That'll work.

You crunch your tendrils through the wood as the golem from behind closes in. You rip out a support beam from the dirt, spin, and shove it into the golem. He's too heavy to change direction. Your wooden stake pierces it through the stomach. It isn't nearly dead - still clawing and salivating, trying to get to you - but you've got it right where you want it.

You lift it up, up, directly above you. Even for you, it's an effort to get the mass of muscle off the ground. You turn, and slam it down into the other oncoming golem like a hammer.

Its partner is crushed into the snow. Bone breaks and snaps. Blood and entrails squirt out onto the ground.

The golems aren't dead - but they'll have trouble moving, for the moment.

You race forward, using the squirming mass for cover. You leap over the tangle, forming your Shadow into a solid fist. <We shall see who is stronger, lich!>

Magnock is stunned.

You slam your appendage into the barrier of Spirit. Sparks crack against you, numbing your arm. The barrier breaks, but it's like shoving through glass with your bare hands.

Magnock raises his staff. You stand opposed to him in the midst of the intersection of several alleys.

"Darkxis, to me!" Magnock shouts.

You prepare yourself, ready to counter any spell he throws at you.

Sparks of spirit gather around his staff. They twist together, forming into something more...the time is now!

You use Nightflare!

The world shocks into a negative of itself. The spirit magic on Magnock's staff fizzles and dies in a plaintiff puff of smoke.

"...how...!?"

This time, you've caught him by surprise! You lunge forward!

You feel yourself slowing down. Held back. As if you're being held.

What's going on?

You freeze to a halt. You strain, and struggle another step forward.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDI7v50RZG8

<You know,> says a voice, <no one's ever moved while I held them. You must be really strong.>

You look over your shoulder. A shadow stands there - a vaguely humanoid form with blank white orbs for eyes and teeth like daggers. A long black tendril stretches from its base to where you stand.

<I'm curious as to how strong you are,> it says. <Real curious. I want to know.> Saliva starts to drool from its mouth. <If I eat you, would I know, do you think? I think I'd like to know. Eating sounds good.>

"You're late, Darkxis," Magnock says. He waltzes up to you. You wrench a claw forward, but then Darkxis reaffirms his grip. Magnock grins, revealing a line of hole-pocked teeth. "I guess you aren't as strong as you think you are."

You growl, and strain. You manage another step. But Magnock just smiles and moves away. "I've got an Angel to corrupt. I don't need a second talking Shadow. Darkxis, feel free to eat this one. But hold it for a good long while, first. It needs to learn some patience." Magnock walks off.

Darkxis grins. <Did you hear that? I get to eat you. I get to know how strong you are, how STRONG, how DELICIOUS, I bet you're DELICIOUS. I wonder how long a WHILE is, do you know, maybe I'll know when I eat you!>

---------------
---------------

You think rapidly, combing through your options.
--------------------
--------------------

You feel ready to Blink. Maybe you could blink out of its grasp and get behind it?

But then what? If it's anything like you, like the last shadow you met - it won't be easy prey. And even if you did manage to consume it...would you be the same Shadow afterward?

You feel at the Shard of True Darkness. Isolation trembles...it doesn't feel as though it's gotten 'better'. Fragile...easily broken. You're not sure if you're willing to sacrifice it.

Maybe magic? Your most powerful magic is of the shadow element, and that probably wouldn't work. Water, then?

You look up at it. Whatever the case, you don't want it to attack you right off the bat. <A while is a while,> you say. <At least five minutes.>

<Five whole minutes! Liar! It's only two minutes. Two minutes and then I eat you! EAT YOU!> It trembles in anticipation.

You're not hopeful about your chances with reasoning with this thing.

<My companions are in danger,> you say. <I don't have 2 minutes to waste. We settle this now.>

<Can't make me!> Darkxis shrieks.

You activate your Berserk.

You rip free of his control in an instant.

You explode across the cobblestone, slamming into your foe. You tumble and twist in a confused tangle of shadows and claws and teeth, each attacking the other - but the suddenness of your strike has given you an advantage. You grab him, lift him up, and slam him down straight into the stone. You follow with a fist, crushing hard enough to crack the street.

Darkxis manage to Ink free of you, slashing as he slithers away. But it's merely a scratch.

You circle one another, darting in and out. He's fast - maybe as fast as you.

The golems up the alley are starting to recover.

You feel...off.

Something's inside you...eating at you.

You don't have time to worry about it. You roar, and fly toward Darkxis, scraping the street with your tendrils as you do. A shower of cobblestones and dirt flies up, pelting your opponent long enough to distract him. You crush him back down into the dirt with your first, then grab him by the middle and slam him down, again, and again.

Darkxis Inks away again. He's weak, but he's a resilient bastard. He gnaws on your limbs as he escapes your attacks, injecting something with his fangs.

You don't have time to think. You've got to crush him while he's still reeling, retreating. You move forward -

- you sense a golem just behind you!

You duck out of the way of the golem! The fist buries itself in the ground next to you - the ground that you dug up. The golem struggles to free itself, but it's momentarily stuck.

The other golem either retreated, or was too damaged to move - you can't sense it.

Darkxis flickers at the edge of your senses. He's moving fast, waiting for an opening - you must have done some damage. Your Berserk isn't helping you keep track of him. You feel as though you could cut it off now, if you wanted.

You end Berserk. You concentration washes back over you in a wave.

Focus pings out.

You find him - right behind you!

You turn just in time to catch his attack. His jaws clamp down on you. <Tasty, tasty, TASTY,TASTY,MORE,I WANT MORE,MORE OF THIS!>

<I can bite, too,> you say.

You stretched your entire body in the shape of a mouth, looming over where he's latched onto your arm.

<Better than you can.>

You crush down on him!

The attack feels different than before. Darkxis shrieks in pain. You're -piercing- through something. You open your jaws, and then Crunch again, mashing him between stony, Shadowy teeth.

Between beating him senseless and chewing him alive, you're pretty sure you've done a lot of damage.

The golem wrenches its arm free from the ground!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcN5lSU1qA4

You crush in again, and this time, you stay there. You sink -into- your foe, burying yourself in his being.

<IT'S BEEN TWO MINUTES!> Darkxis screams. He matches your efforts, fighting back and latching on to your existence! You battle for control.

The golem's fist slams into you both - but it didn't seem to care who it hit. The both of you fly across the alley and slam through a wall. You tumble to rest inside a small room with a fireplace and several chairs.

You and Darkxis crack the floorboards and smash the chairs to bits as you roll over and over, trying to leverage yourselves into some sort of advantage.

You subsume part of Darkxis.

He steals part of you.

You grab it back, mixed with some of him.

He dissolves one of your arms.

You eat away half his face.

His face reemerges from another part of his body, and he sucks in part of your jaw.

He's definitely weaker than you, after the fight. You've got to finish this!

His efforts are slowing down...

You burst through Darkxis's defenses! You've reached his core, and you know what you have to do...

you
must
CONSUME

He's on the ropes.

This is it...

...but you can feel the danger. His existence will not be denied so easily.

You subsume the core of Darkxis.

Hunger gnaws at you. Hunger...and something else...

The two feelings swirl within you. The threaten to grow greater than your own self.

Wouldn't it be nice to just CONSUME everything...to have it as part of yourself?

Wouldn't it be easier? A simple life. Eat, or not eat. Eat. Eat. Eat.

Take everything.

No.

Your rail against the feeling. Too much rides on this. Too many companions...

...friends.

Flint.
Abigail.
They need you.

You wrench yourself back from the brink of ignorant Hunger.

For a moment, you feel the two feelings sitting there, collected like two crystals - and one simply disintegrates. Whatever it was, is lost.

The other, you know, is the Hunger you've felt all along. It's not an unfamiliar feeling.

You stand in the midst of the room.

You Focus your senses.

Immediately, a ball of Light jumps out at you like a sunray. You feel at it, confused - but it's indiscernible. It isn't moving. It's also right where you left the others.

A strong Spirit soul is standing next to it. That has to be Magnock.

What is going on?

You begin to move off - and then, an idea strikes you. You Replicate Darkxis's form, complete with glowing white eyes and shark-toothed grin. You add a bit of saliva for good measure, and then start off through the city.

You come across the golem, but it's heading the other way. It ignores you. Whether it simply didn't notice you, or the disguise worked, you're not quite sure.

You reach the site of the collapsed tavern.

The hundreds of townsfolk are dispersing - no less mindless, but slowly, without any urgency. You gingerly meander between them. They don't pay you any attention.

A glowing, egg-shaped sphere of Light rests on the cobblestone. Magnock is busying himself walking around it in a small circuit. A glowing orange sigil is swiftly growing underneath it. Three flesh golems stand guard, and you can feel a Spirit barrier identical to the one you smashed before.

You surmise that Auriel, backed into a corner, must have used some sort of defensive spell to protect the group. And Magnock must be trying to crack it open.

You gingerly walk up to the outskirts of the barrier. You grasp the Shard of Hunger...

...and you feel something envelope you, more lucid and coherent than Isolation ever was.

You channel that feeling into words, and they roll out of you.

<That looks tasty, can I eat it? I want to eat it, can I, eat it, that is, I want to - >

Magnock doesn't even look up. "Shut up, Darkxis." He fritters over something for a moment, then straightens. "What of the other shadow?"

<I ate it.>

"Good. You'll make quite the assassin, someday. And then you'll have every soul you can eat, as promised." He looks to the egg. "The angel is weakened, but she retains her knowledge, and experience. I can't open this alone." Magnock grins. "But I know another lich that might help, if I break him just the right way." Magnock glances at you. "Do as you will until I call upon you. I'm transporting this into my laboratory."

The sigil under the egg flares with orange light.

You leap forward. <I want to go, too! Will there be things to eat?!>

You slam into the magical barrier, then fall backward, stunned.

Magnock gives you a tired look of disdain. "I've told you before, Darkxis. Don't get close to me."

The teleport spell activates. The three golems, the egg, and Magnock all vanish.

You feel a bright point of Spirit flash far below you.

You didn't expect Magnock to include Darkxis in the barrier spell...but then, given his Hunger, maybe you should have.

Frustration rages through you. You punch the stone, cracking it.

You force it back, slowly, steadily. Anger won't help the situation. As Flint said to Joey all those times they sparred, you need to keep your head on straight.

Magnock's lair no doubt rests within the mines below the town. He's ancient, adept in magic, has had who knows how long to take over this town, and he has all of your friends captive. And you've no doubt he's working on Adavan right now.

Time is short. You need to get moving. You trudge through the snow, keeping an eye on the subdued townsfolk. For now, it seems they don't consider you an enemy. He still doesn't expect that you're against him - at least you have that.