NOVPUB34 – A Gift of Time
When Victor and Arona stepped out of the portal into his study, his impulse was to seek solitude in his cultivation chamber. He wanted to do some thinking, and he often did his best thinking when he was cultivating. Arona wasn’t ready to be so quickly dismissed, however. “Victor, if you’re set on doing battle with that curse on the morrow, then perhaps some preparation is in order.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Well, I had some thoughts for more explicit preparations—as I understand it, the strength of your will is paramount in this battle, yes?”
He didn’t bother responding; she knew the answer. “Go on.”
“When did you last drink a tincture brewed to enhance your will?”
Victor chuckled, thinking back to the last time he’d sought out tinctures meant to improve an attribute. When had that been? Coloss? “Never, I guess. My will has always been far stronger than I needed it to be.” He shrugged. “What’s the most I can hope for? Ten or twenty points?”
“With a will as strong as yours, it may be less than that, but wouldn’t every point be worthwhile? Moreover, we could acquire a short-term enhancement potion that you should consume prior to your spirit walk. Some of them are quite effective, if short-lived.”
Victor nodded, unfolding arms he hadn’t realized he’d folded. “Yeah, that’s smart, Arona.”
“Perfect. Then, may I use this portal array? I shall visit the auction on Sojourn.”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “Sojourn? Are you sure that’s wise? What if Vesavo—”
“My Core is brightness and light; trust me, if he sensed my presence in the city, he would think it a mistake, a coincidence that a being such as I felt similar to his long-dead apprentice.”
“You’re certain? I don’t want to have to come and rescue you—”
She laughed, shaking her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll create the portal in a grove outside the city, a place I know well—secluded and quiet. From there, I shall make hasty flight to the auction hall, where I’ll easily hide my presence. As for the return portal, I’ll simply rent a room in one of the inns that provides safe haven to all guests.”
“You’ve thought this through, huh?” Victor nodded. “All right. Let me get you some beads—”
She waved a hand. “Nonsense! We’ve made millions in that dungeon, and I had a stash before that. These items won’t be overly expensive, in any case.”
Victor shrugged. “All right. Thank you, Arona. Here—” He summoned the various parts of the portal array, handing them to her, one by one. He knew he was putting a valuable treasure in her hands, and so did she. She took each piece reverently, especially the control orb, as he gently placed it into her open palm. He didn’t say it, but he knew she understood that he was trusting her with a great deal. Why wouldn’t he, though? Hadn’t she looked over his slumbering form for six months? Hadn’t she risked her life standing by Kynna’s side when he couldn’t?
“I’ll be back before morning. May I create the portal here?”
“Yeah, of course.” Victor stepped toward the door to his workshop. “I’m going into my cultivation chamber.”
She watched him go through the door, and before it closed behind him, she said, “I’ll see you soon, then.”
Victor sighed, stretching his neck and back as he walked across the workshop to the cultivation chamber door. He pressed his hand to the lock and pulled the door wide, smiling as the rich, magma- and blue ice-attuned Energy washed over him. Inside, he closed the door and sat on his pedestal, taking a few minutes to let his mind settle.
He had much to think about, and the curse was only the most pressing of his many concerns. He wondered how Kynna was doing. It had been four days since he’d spoken to her. How were things going with the veil walkers and the transition of power for House Kuria? Had there been any talks about the next duel? He wondered about that. His next duel might be his last. Could they really get House Khaliday to commit? How confident could they be in their champion after what Victor had done to Drok the Skull?
He only knew that their champion was from off-world, and, according to Tes, he was a dragon. He couldn’t be as strong as she was, though, could he? Wasn’t she basically a veil walker? If this champion, dragon blood or not, was still working inside the System, that meant he was no more than a steel seeker. Victor frowned. Shouldn’t he have more information by now? Shouldn’t Kynna have delivered a dossier on the champion?
He supposed it was very possible that she had. It could be sitting on a stack of missives in his study for all he knew; he hadn’t exactly looked around to see what he’d missed while he’d been insensate for six entire months. It didn’t matter anyway; regardless of what he learned, Victor wouldn’t back away from the fight. Hadn’t his ancestors feasted on the hearts of dragons? Was he any less of a Quinametzin? “Hah,” he chuckled, pleased to feel the familiar old pride surging in his chest. His Class change had been good in that regard. The strength of his aura was pushing the despair of the void curse down to manageable levels.
Of course, that thought made him contemplate his new Class. “Doomforged Tyrant!” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He’d never have predicted he’d embrace a Class so dour-sounding. He wondered if the “Doomforged” part had to do with his curse. Was he doomed? He knew the “Tyrant” part wasn’t literal. He didn’t feel tyrannical anywhere but the battlefield, and he was sure that was what it referenced. He was meant to dominate in war and combat, and that was fine—it was welcomed.
Sighing, Victor realized his meditations were going nowhere. His mind was too busy, so he summoned his Farscribe books and looked through them, wondering if any of his loved ones had something interesting to share. He smiled when the first one he opened, Edeya’s, had a lengthy new entry. He summoned a big bottle of honeyed mead and took a long drink before nestling the book in his lap and reading through the letter:
Dear Victor,
I was pleased to get an update from you, finally! I’m sure you could tell by the tone of my earlier messages that I was worried. You said you’d be gone months and maybe years, but the reality of it hadn’t sunk in until you’d been silent for months and months, and then the 1-year mark slipped by. Anyway, it was wonderful to hear from you, and I’m glad things are still progressing for you there regarding the succession war. I’m amazed that you were unconscious for six entire months! I’ve read stories about great heroes eating treasures and sleeping away the years, but I’d always thought they were fanciful tales to impress children.
Things are going very well here, in case you were worried. Lam and I are getting along—better than before. Of course, you know about my reservations, as I spilled my silly heart out to you in letter after letter, but I finally took some of your advice and was honest with her about them. Wonder of wonders, she understood! I wish you could see my smile as I write this. Anyway, Lam agreed that, despite her deep love for me, it wasn’t healthy for me to be everything to her.
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We’re still together, and we still adventure together, but we’ve both taken up hobbies apart from one another. We’ve developed friendships that give us a little space to grow the other aspects of our personalities. You won’t believe this, but I’ve become very close with your cousin, Olivia. She’s a fascinating woman! She’s very passionate about everything, and I often wonder if that stems from her incredible affinity for the elements. As great as her passion is, she’s also very analytical, and, with her help, I’ve begun to develop new spells—she’s been sharing her texts from Fainhallow with me.
Victor! She wants to talk to you about creating a school in the Free Marches to rival the other great academies on Fanwath. She speaks in strange terms—colleges and universities, even schools for children to prepare them for ‘higher learning.’ I think it’s all fascinating, of course, and I’m sure you could convince Rellia to help fund the endeavor. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have academies to compete with those in the Empire?
As for Lam, she and Lesh are like two peas in a pod these days. They’ve expanded on the sparring schedule Lesh maintained with other iron rankers in Sojourn. Now, they treat it almost like a martial sect, and Dar’s lake home has become known as the premier place to practice one’s weapon skills in Sojourn.
I’m sure you’re wondering about Darren. I’ll tell you a secret, but only if you promise to repeat it to no one! Usually, I’d assume you wouldn’t have anyone to whisper to, being on another world far away, but I know you keep Farscribe books with many folks other than myself. Anyway, I trust you, so don’t let me down! The secret is that Darren has confided to me that he intends to marry an avian woman native to Sojourn. Her name is Bree Lansa, and she’s sweet and pretty—as far as avians go.
I don’t mean to sound prejudiced, but you know how they are with their beaks and big eyes, their clicking sounds, and… Oh, listen to me! I am being prejudiced! I don’t mean it that way. Let’s see—the positives: her feathers are sky blue and glisten wonderfully in the sun. She has a pale yellow beak, much smaller than Darren’s, and her voice will move you to tears when she sings. Anyway, Darren is lovestruck, and though he’s still intent on gaining levels, he’s slowed his adventuring to spend more and more time with her.
What else can I tell you? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of your master. The servants say he’s at some place called the “Arcanum.” I guess I’ve been there before, but it was when my spirit was fractured and again when it was newly made whole, and I don’t remember it at all. It’s wonderful that we can still live here at the house, so if you correspond with him, please convey our gratitude.
Please let me know if you have anything else you’d like me to write about. Of course, that would require you to write more than a cursory note letting me know you’re alive. Did you take note of the biting wit in that last sentence? Next time we’re together, you can expect more of that in person, but with a bit more venom followed by a big hug and even a slobbery kiss on your gigantic, stupid, handsome cheek. 𝘯𝑜𝘷𝘱𝘶𝘣.𝘤𝘰𝑚
I miss you, Victor!
Love,
Edeya
Victor sighed happily, closing the book. He sat that way, visualizing Edeya and the others in Sojourn, living their lives. The idea that Darren Whitehorse, the asshole politician from First Landing, was now a Thunderbird and planning to marry an avian woman on Sojourn was so bizarre to him that he couldn’t help but chuckle as he contemplated it. He was glad that Lam was finding some balance for her passionate infatuation with Edeya, too. Edeya was young—so was he, but who was counting?—and she deserved a little space to explore other aspects of herself.
He sent the book into storage, but when he looked around his cultivation chamber, the thought of actually cultivating no longer appealed to him. His mind was relaxed, and he felt the weariness of his ordeals in the dungeon. He felt the weight of his new Class, and to his delight, a deep, heavy yawn gripped him. “Good,” he grunted, content to lie back right there in the dim, ambient light of the heavily enchanted amber ore.
Always hopeful, though not expecting anything to come of it, he summoned the ring Tes had made him and slipped it onto his thumb as he lay there on the hard surface of his cultivation platform. His body didn’t mind the unyielding surface; his flesh was resilient, his bones like titanium. The curse burned in his chest, but it was a minor thing—an annoyance he’d grown used to, especially when he was flat on his back. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift through the fanciful ideas of children from the Free Marches going to schoolhouses in the villages and towns dotted around the countryside.
He slept heavily, but after a while, his consciousness became aware, and he found himself walking on a cobbled path in a moonlit garden. Everything had a strange, otherworldly luster, an underglow of silvery light that reminded him a little bit of the spirit plane. The colors were vivid, though, and the songs of nightbirds and the aromas of cherry-scented blossoms told him he wasn’t on that twilit plane.
Victor paused while walking and took a minute to look around. The path meandered through tall shrubs with long, dark leaves and aromatic, white and orange blossoms. In the distance, he heard the tinkling music of a fountain, and when he turned to look behind him, he saw a slender figure approaching. She wore soft lavender skirts, and her pale yellow hair was tied back with matching ribbons.
Tes smiled when she saw him looking and skipped forward, arms wide, reaching for an embrace. “At last!” she said breathlessly, hugging him tightly. In that strange place, they were a good match, size-wise. Her cheek rested on his shoulder as he pressed her close, savoring the softness of her and the gentle floral scent of her perfume. “Fate has finally seen fit to bring us together,” she murmured as he squeezed her gently.
“I have to admit, I was starting to think this crystal you made didn’t work,” he said with a chuckle.
“Such little faith!” she teased, grasping his shoulders and pushing herself back to look him in the eyes. Suddenly, her face grew grave, and her brows narrowed with concern. “You’ve changed.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I guess I have.”
“Your aura is heavier. You’ve gained much strength, but you’re hurting. What ails you, Victor?”
Victor smiled, reaching up to take her hand, lifting it off his shoulder. Holding it gently, he said, “Let’s walk through this pretty garden and not waste our time discussing things we can’t do anything about.” He turned to start walking, but Tes tugged her hand, stopping him.
“If there’s a problem, then let me be the judge about what can be done.”
He looked back at her, at the hardness in her eyes, the firm set of her jaw. Of course, she wouldn’t let him blow past the issue, so he tried to minimize things. “It’s nothing, Tes. I’m dealing with it. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do—build my strength, my independence? This is one of those things I need to handle on my own.”
“You’d use my words against me, so? Victor, please, at least tell me what ails you.”
Her fingers were warm in his hand, and her eyes were plaintive. She was so beautiful and obviously cared a great deal about him, but Victor found that some stubborn streak in his heart didn’t want to tell her about the curse. He knew a big part of it was his pride; she’d left him to grow in power so they could stand together, unashamed in the society she called home. Well, that meant he needed to deal with his problems on his own. Another part of his reluctance was worry—worry that she’d insist on trying to help even though Dar had cautioned him that such help would, ultimately, do him harm.
He let go of her hand and folded his arms over his chest, frowning. “No, Tes. I won’t have us waste this time together going round and round about something I’m going to handle on my own.”
“But, Victor, if you’re handling it, why would we go ‘round and round?’ Just tell me and trust that I’ll respect your wishes. You trust me, don’t you?” She stepped forward, resting her delicate fingers with lavender-painted nails on his crossed arms.
Victor’s conviction crumbled, and he decided she had a good point. If nothing else, this would be a good test of her respect for him. If she insisted on trying to help, he supposed that would tell him much about how she viewed him. So, with a single nod of his chin, he said, “All right, Tes. I’ll tell you, but then let’s drop this subject and enjoy this gift of fate, agreed?”
She stared at him for a long, quiet moment and then mimicked his single nod. “Agreed.”
“A Void Caster has put a curse on my spirit, and it’s slowly devouring me. I’ve spent the last half of a year building my strength, preparing to battle the curse on the spirit plane, and I will do so when I wake up from this dream.” While he spoke, she maintained eye contact with him, and though she didn’t react with any change of expression, he saw moisture gathering in her eyes. More plaintively than he liked, he said, “I need to do this on my own, Tes. Do you understand?”
Her fingers tightened on his arm, and for the briefest of moments, he felt her control slip. He felt the depth of her power and the weight of her draconic aura. He’d felt it before when she’d teased him back on Coloss. Back then, it had been awe-inspiring and a little terrifying. Now, he could acknowledge that it was impressive, but it paled next to Azforath or the ivid queen. It wasn’t much worse than standing before the full weight of Lohanse’s aura. He smiled as she regained control, and it faded.
“I understand, sweet Victor. I understand.” She slid her hand down his wrist to entwine her fingers with his. “Let’s walk and talk and make the most of this wonderful gift of time together.”
