Wish upon the Stars (Original Superhero cultivation sci fi litrpg)

[Malcolm Tent]

We ran across another candidate not too far into the maze. Or rather, two candidates working together. Rather than be in the dark about these though, I was pleased to note that Belsara seemed to know them. I was LESS pleased that she tried exhaustively to convince me to stab them in the throat from stealth.


"Rega and Pallux are MONSTERS," she told me bluntly. "I've met them several times, and every single one they tried to kill or capture me. They control their subordinates through fear and constant competition, pitting their people against each other to keep them under their thumb, and their guard captain, Strelk, is a sadist who torments his own people for his own amusement."


"Where did you meet them, exactly?" I asked after she finished talking. "It seems like some of these candidates are more…immersed in branch politics than others. We were all raised away from the family, how do they know so much?"


She sighed. "What you need to remember is that while this war was moved up, it's still been DECADES since the last one, at minimum. Every Wyndham born since that event is involved in the current succession war. Lots of them hit D-rank years ago. Once your guardian is no longer active, you're technically not bound by the rules of non interference. A lot of the older D-rankers, or hell, anyone who has been in D-rank more than a few years, made their way back to check in with the branches and start vetting their factions."


I was curious why we hadn't done that. Was it a timing thing? We ranked up FAST, even for a candidate party. My library and natural talent let me accomplish things at E-rank most people didn't manage until years later. It was possible we'd just done it so fast there was no time for a check in with the family.


Then again…it might not be that simple either. Grandpa's branch was a mess, my Uncle was an asshole, and other branch heads hated me. Maybe dad had foreseen some of this nonsense and had Zeke steer me away from trying to involve myself too heavily with the family until I had the authority to keep myself safe. Hell, maybe he didn't want to change the way I saw the world. I knew he actually loved mom's heroic spirit, it was part of why he'd left me in the Congolmerate to begin with. The Unity had an idealized perception of the universe compared to most factions.


Still, dicks or not, I didn't like the idea of actively attempting murder on unsuspecting people, especially relatives. I shook my head. We'd been following them in stealth for maybe ten minutes, waiting to find a decent environment for an ambush or encirclement. Currently we were in a long glass hallway, and that didn't really suit for either. "No. When we get a shot, we take it, and we take them down hard, but no killing. Not from ambush. We restrain them and leave them here to rot. That'll have to be enough."


We stalked behind them silently, waiting and watching, until we came to an open room. My mud field had preceded us (and keeping them from noticing it was shockingly easy, considering it was an extension of my will, Murmur was able to erase it easily, and it got easier and easier the longer the substance spent in my domain. This really was an amazing combination.


Spreading out, we surrounded the pair of candidates and their minions. Three hundred of them, surprisingly. I was pretty sure we'd done better with local recruitment than the majority of factions we'd seen so far. Since we outnumbered them three to one, I decided to show up directly to discuss things at the start. It had worked pretty well with Alys.


To my surprise though, when we appeared they didn't seem bothered. Not like they were expecting us, mind, they just appeared to be completely at ease.


I had no clue WHY that would be a thing, but to my complete shock, my attempt at discussion was interrupted…by a growl. From BETHY. I froze, turning to stare at my friend, who was looking at the tall man in the black armor behind the two candidates, her eyes blazing an unearthly red, her lips peeled back in an ENRAGED snarl. "Harpy!" She hissed, her voice guttural and animalistic.


My sister, standing behind her, went pale with fright. "Shit," she spat, stepping forward to grab Bethy. "That's BAD."


I frowned at them both. "Bethy? Are you alright?" Bethy got bloodthirsty and amused, she got cold sometimes when she was doing something she needed to do but didn't like, I'd even seen her lose control. But THIS I had never seen. This was…HATE.


"No, she's not," Chelsea answered grimly. "We need to put these assholes down and leave, now. Bethy can't be around a harpy. Maenads and Harpies are OLD enemies. The reflexive drive to fight them is one of the few things Bethy inherited from her mom. Something about stealing wine grapes, I don't really know. She doesn't talk about it. But we need to-"


She yelped as she was cut off by a fucking SONIC BOOM as Bethy crossed the distance to the armored figure too fast for even MY eyes to track, her fangs snapping and claws flashing toward's the big man's throat.


To my utter shock, he didn't tank the hit. He just sort of…leaned back. Her nails passed a micron in front of his gorget, the wind creating a scraping gouge as her fingers cut through it. The man's arms snapped out and forward, metallic feathers sprouting from beneath then as his hands flickered forward, creating a shower of metal shards that Bethy effortlessly flowed between like a dancer.


Despite the ease of avoidance though, dodging gave him time to retreat, and I was barely able to follow the motion as he launched himself into the air, sweeping upwards and then unleashing another shower of razor feathers, this time at US.


Abel snorted, tracing a circle in the air above us, and the feathers fell into the spatial lubrication, swept into a circular motion that appeared to be gathering speed with every rotation. He flicked his fingers again, and they launched back out the same way they'd come, moving three times as fast. His eyes, barely visible behind a strange black birdlike helm, glowed an unsettling orange as they flicked to his boss and then back to Bethy, refocusing on his own fight.


Rega and Pallux seemed MUCH less calm now, their eyes narrowed under their platinum blonde hair. Each of them had one blue and one green eye, on opposite sides of their face. And their haircuts were incredibly similar, with Pallux's being a bit shorter from what I could tell, though not enough that you couldn't easily mistake him for his sister. "Drewnokk, what the hell are you doing?" Snapped Rega. "Put her down!"


I smirked. This wasn't ideal, but it was better for us than them. Presumably, they had been leaning on this Drewnokk guy, who, admittedly, was fucking TERRIFYING to be capable of competing with Bethy. But with him out of the picture, they didn't have anyone strong enough to protect them.


Between what Belsara said about the captain (Drewnookk I assumed) and their general demeanor, I was willing to kick their asses even if I still wasn't ok with unilateral execution of family members.


Glory blazed to life as I flickered forward, my staff appearing and lashing out in the same motion, the razor edge of the black flame spear driving right toward Pallux's face. He was the closest, and I held back enough that he wouldn't have trouble dodging, but to my surprise, he just screamed and stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. I just stopped, standing over him dumbly. "Are you serious?" I demanded. "Come on, man, have some self respect. You're a Wyndham."


I was so disgusted I didn't even bother with anything fancy. I just smashed the butt of the staff into his skull, knocking him out cold.


Despite being apparently a generally terrible person according to Belsara, Rega is NOT a terrible sister. Her eyes narrow in rage as she backs off from her brother. "Drewnokk, enough with her, get down here and tear a strip off this armored bastard!"


Cursing, I triggered Mornax immediately, planting my staff to tank the impact I knew was coming…and it was a good thing I did. In a movement too fast for me to track, the armored harpy man vanished, appearing in front of me with wings and claws flashing. His fingers were hooked with curved talons I hadn't noticed under his gauntlets, and there was a screech as they carved divots in my armor.


My C-rank plate didn't GIVE, exactly, but it certainly strained as he gouged out some of the metal. I was EXTREMELY glad to be wearing full plate, because if his talons did that shit to my plate, I didn't even want to THINK about what they would do to my flesh, Mornax or not. I was durable, but not C-rank metal durable.


I didn't need to find out though, because there was an incandescent scream of rage and Bethy fell on him like a fucking rabid animal. Her claws raked his armor, longer and sharper than I'd ever seen, and to my shock, something ELSE had changed too. Flowing blood red patterns had begun to wind their way along her skin, starting around her eyes, the sclera of which had been drowned in crimson. Not blood red. Something deeper and darker. More like…wine.


Drewnokk retreated, snarling and lashing out with a rain of feather blades. Before he could follow up though, a gleaming armored form smashed into him at speed, a lance concentrating the force into one spot as the unstoppable avalanche of power that was Gabe on horseback hit him at full force, sending him skidding across the floor to smash headlong into the black glass of the nearest wall.


Like Bethy, Gabe was in a state I'd never seen before. Raw, overwhelming fury. His normally amiable face was peeled back in a rictus of explosive fury. "Don't TOUCH her!"


That was sweet, if misplaced normally, because Bethy was way stronger than him, but I could see what was making him angry. Bethy didn't LOOK like Bethy. Not even vampire Bethy. This was a completely different version of my friend. Dropping Mornax and Glory, I triggered Zagan, then stepped between her and Drewnokk. Callie, aware of all this through the bond, surrounded us with a shadowy ward, and she sent Abel and my sister to help out against Drewnokk as our people dealt with the others.


The two candidates each had a hundred of their own C-rankers, meaning that despite our vastly superior numbers they had twice the high level combatants. Luckily, we had BETTER ones, and Ellisara, Felicity, and Argaunt were carving through their people with enough urgency that they didn't have time to spare thinking about the D-rank fighters.


Especially since the two candidates had been essentially left alone, and now that I checked, I couldn't see them anywhere. Rega seemed to have grabbed her brother and dragged him off who knows where. I didn't have time to worry about it.


I put my hands on Bethy's shoulders and she snarled at me, her teeth actually snapping towards my face. I didn't move, it wouldn't have done any good. "Are you done?" I asked my friend kindly. She stared at me, and I flooded her body with Zagan's purifying flames of life. As I did, the red patterns on her skin began to slowly fade away, like they were being bleached off in the sun.


Her eyes, formerly wine red across the entirety of the orb, faded back to the normal red irises, and her pupils returned. She stared at me in terror, horrified that she'd just attacked me. I pulled her into a tight hug, not letting up on the life fire, and she just sat there and cried. There was a flicker in the dark and Callie appeared beside us, wrapping her arms around Bethy from the other side and joining me in comforting our friend.


I didn't know who to blame for this bullshit, the elders, the twins, or myself. Regardless of anything though, if I saw Rega and Pallux again, I wasn't going to be gentle with them. I had some frustration to work out.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We stopped for the night after traveling for another few hours. We didn't run into any new candidates, thankfully, and I was able to condense the mile wide liquid rock swamp into a complete building for us to use as a base of operations. A Piece of Mind parallel to control Mumur, combined with my EXTREME familiarity with the stone in question meant the whole lodge was impossible to spot even when I was unconscious, so I was free to catch some rest with everyone else.


Before that though, I decided to cook dinner for the whole camp. I felt the need to connect with my people a bit more. Our force had expanded massively, and it was getting hard to keep track of everyone. Without a personal stake, I was worried my new faction members would lose motivation.


But cooking for a thousand people was…a lot. Like a staggering amount of food and effort. I needed something easy and quick but also heavy and filling.


I turned, in the end, to the tried and true method of using food to reach out to a friend. Which is to say, I decided to make something to cheer up our wilting vampiress, who had been withdrawn and nervous since the incident earlier.


"Hey Bethy," I called her over to where I stood in front of a huge metal pot. "I need your help with this."


She shrugged, standing up to walk over to me blankly. "I don't really know how to cook. You'd do a better job than me." She stared down at the pot, seeming to lose herself in the dark recesses of the cooking implement. But I was having none of that.


"Well, sure," I said casually. "But I'm making fondue. That's just melted cheese. I'm sure you have some…thoughts, on what kind of cheese I should use, right?"


Her eyes snapped up to me, narrowing in suspicion. "Cheese?" She said slowly. "I know a lot about cheese."


"I know, that's why I asked," I chuckled. "Of course, if you don't want to help, I could always make soup or something. You're a big fan of soup, aren't you Bethy? I think I have the stuff for…lentil garlic."


She flinched back, hissing dramatically. Chelsea, who had approached when she saw me drag Bethy over here, cleared her throat. "Um, hi, yeah, fondue is fine, but what's with the hissing? Is the vampire garlic thing real? I've never seen Bethy pass up food because it had garlic in it, at least not that I noticed."


"What?" Bethy asked in confusion. "No, I just really hate lentils." She pouted at me. "Hey. you're distracting me. I'm trying to be sad here."


Chelsea giggled at that. "Yeah, stop. Gabe has been all broody since the end of the fight. I think he needs a hug." She glanced at me. "After you help Shane pick out some cheeses for this fondue. I'm actually starving, and I want something to eat bad. What do we have to dip in it?"


I backed away as Bethy started digging in her ring for various wheels of cheese and plopping them down on a table she'd pulled from nowhere, loudly announcing the various types of dairy product we had on offer. I kept an ear out, but I was willing to let Chelsea handle that while I went and sought out another friend in need.


Gabe was sitting in the back corner, looking unhappy. Drewnokk had lost to our crew, and Ellia dn the others had driven off their C-rankers pretty easily. Once the twins vanished, no one had bothered to stick around to try to fight for nothing, and they'd scattered.


Our Adamant friend had immediately come to find us and check on Bethy, and on seeing her in tears over what had happened had pretty much shut down. His eyes looked haunted and blank, like he was lost in a fog, and I sat down next to him with a sigh. "Well, that fucking sucked, huh? This succession war isn't exactly a party. You regretting coming along?"


He snorted. "I don't do regrets," he said with a bitter chuckle. "At least, not for helping friends. I just…I feel like I'm falling behind. My drive to advance has been waning. Not that I don't want to keep up, but an Adamant is supposed to forge ahead, and you're all leaving me in the dust." He shot a glance at Bethy and Chelsea where the two of them were working on cheese picking. "I guess I just…I've been so comfortable here. Just one of the crowd. It's hard to stand out when there are so many amazing people around, but that's not always bad. Fitting in was…nice."


I raised an eyebrow at his soft expression. "I'm very specifically NOT going to ask which of them you're looking at right now, because if it's my sister I'd have to kick your ass, and if it's NOT my sister I might STILL have to kick your ass." I was more convinced it was both, actually, but that was a mess I wanted absolutely no part of, and would leave to Chelsea. They were all adults, and their love lives weren't my business.


"You think you could take me?" He grinned, his eyes lighting up with the challenge. "Think I might still be a bit too much for you. Never mess with cavalry. You should get a horse, it would pair well with that spear thing you've been doing lately."


I snorted. "I don't trust any mode of transportation that can make it's own decisions. You might be able to cheat with your magic star horse, but I'd probably end up with some sarcastic asshole horse that would dump me off its back all the time. Sucks Archie is still pretty small. Riding a phoenix into battle would be badass."


"That WOULD be cool," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder if I could figure out a way to adapt my charger into something that flies. Not a bird, but like…maybe a pegasus?"


I grinned at him. "Man, Bethy is a bad influence on you, huh? Or a really good one. Why don't you go ask her about it, since she's the most likely person here to figure out how to swing something like that." My vampire friend regularly altered a fundamental transformation she'd been born with on a casual whim, turning into things like cats and squirrels just because she felt like it. I might be a Path genius, but Bethy was a natural prodigy at altering Skills like that on the fly.


Gabe seemed to brighten slightly, standing up and clapping me on the shoulder. "Thanks, Shane. You're a good guy."


"It's cool man, you just need to get out of your head." I nodded to him, smiling as he headed off to talk to my sister and Bethy. Yawning, I stood up and stretched. I glanced around, noting that everyone was sort of grouping up. All except one person. Benny was off by himself at a table he'd brought in, working on…something. Celine, Jessie, Mel, Abel, and Daysia were over with Holly and Serah, talking about some plant thing or other, but my best friend was all by himself using a series of complicated tools to alter the axe he'd gotten from the siege.


I approached, interested to see what he was doing, and found myself entranced by the process. The axe lay on the table, a dark stained wooden thing with what looked suspiciously like manacles sticking out of the ends. They were open and ignored, with Benny only using the central area of the table. Surrounding the axe were a variety of beakers, test tubes, and flasks, all connected together and bubbling away atop multicolored flames.


One of the flasks I recognized as the kind Zeke used to hold souls, and that one was sitting inside of a circle of oddly numerical symbols. Above it floated…something. A vague shape that seemed halfway stuck between fog and solid, losing its form by the moment as Benny adjusted knobs, feeding materials from the different flasks into the connecting tubes. The liquids dripped down through the soul, and I saw it lose some of its cohesion even further as one of the droplets took on an odd shine.


Rather than hit the flask though, the droplets landed on a wide funnel that interrupted the distance between them, draining down into another tube that led over to the axe. At the end of it, a bright flame glowed, like a butane torch, and Benny was using one hand to slowly engrave things on the axe blades while the other adjusted the various knobs expertly, slightly changing the consistency and color of the flame as he carved.


I whistled. "Damn, is this your new inventing process? I knew your ability would change how it worked, but that's kind of involved."


"It is," he admitted, not even bothering to look up. "But the use of souls makes it both more and less restrictive. It's more…open ended, weirdly, but that also means I can impose my will and control it better. Downside is that souls have tendencies, and they have trouble synchronizing with items that aren't attuned to them."


That was interesting. I knew souls weren't people. They didn't have a consciousness or sentience, exactly. The souls that Benny, Zeke, and people like my dad used weren't trapped human beings suffering for eternity, they were just fragments of vital force that had been imprinted with the characteristics of the people they used to be. The ability for a soul to retain true consciousness was exclusive to mirror soul bodies, which was the reason they could be reformed after shattering.


He was staring hard at the axe head through a pair of odd goggles, but eventually grimaced and turned off the flame. He started packing everything up, taking the goggles off with a sigh. "This is starting to make my head hurt. I'll come back to it later."


"I noticed you haven't upgraded any of your gear recently," I said sympathetically. "I'm guessing this new style of creating has higher requirements?"


He nodded. "It does. Takes ages to get anything done. But I should never need to replace any of this stuff. Soul based artifacts will grow alongside me, and they have a much higher potential limit." He patted the axe fondly. "This beast is going to be the basis of a powerful new ability that will stick with me for the rest of my life."


Putting the axe away in his ring, he packed up the table, then stood and stretched. "Speaking of creating stuff, weren't you supposed to be cooking dinner?"


I didn't see the need to dignify that with a response. Flipping him off, I rolled my eyes, turned and headed back over to Bethy and Chelsea, who were currently arguing over the groaning table full of a dizzying area of cheeses. "No, we can't use ALL of them," my sister said indignantly. "More isn't always better."


"It's CHEESE," Bethy said with a mutinous pout. "More IS always better. Gabe tell her!"


"None of you get a vote," I said ruthlessly as I stopped next to the precariously stacked tower. "And this is WAY too much cheese. You can pick like…three kinds. This is fondue, not alchemy."


Bethy literally stomped her foot in outrage, but I couldn't help but smile. Goofing off with the others put that classic Bethy sparkle back in her eye. She glared at me murderously for a moment, then looked away with a snort. "Fine. Smoked Gouda is my favorite. And Colby Jack is good. And Pepper Jack."


She pointed them each out, and there were indeed several wheels of each. I tossed them casually into the pot, then lit the fire, making sure to keep the heat low. As the smell of cheese wafted out into the building, everyone else started flocking to the cooking pot and I grinned happily. This had been a pretty good plan.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The rest of the labyrinth was as obnoxious as it was frustrating. We caught several more candidates, some we let go, some we trapped and left behind. When all was said and done, at the end of the one week it took us to reach the other side, I ended up receiving another fifty points, a full fifty percent again what I already had. Not to mention fifty six more scrolls to add to my stockpile.

Emerging from the caves, my first thought was…"Wow, this is super pretty." I was blown away. Rolling fields of lush green grass, fluffy white clouds, the sky was even blue, which had to be an illusion because I didn't see a fire cage up there. Small patches of bountiful green trees dotted the landscape, and I could see flowers, butterflies, and any number colorful flora and faun frolicking across the expanse in front of us.

"Yeah, it was designed to be," Jack said wryly. "A great amount of the resources of this planet are focused into this area. The inner two rings on both sides of the planet are the central areas where all the power on this world congregates. Is it any wonder they'd want it to be pleasant? The infrastructure is good too. Case in point."

He points out into the green fields, and I was surprised to see a man approaching. Tall and worn with a thick beard and carrying a shepherds crook. B-rank, obviously, and clearly confident in his power. Behind him trailed about a dozen fluffy looking sheep with scaly wings. As we watched, one of them burped out a plume of fire, not even slowing down as it did.

I expected him to be a guard or something, but Jack greeted him cheerfully as he came closer. "Hey ______ good to see you," I blinked. What was that?

"Um…what did you just say?" I asked him cautiously. "I didn't…did you say anything? I can't remember. I feel like you did, but maybe there was no actual word?" My head was buzzing slightly. Not enough to hurt but enough that it was weird to experience.

Jack snorted. "I said _______. Or I tried to. He's the guide who will lead you to the central city. He lost his name in a poker game a few centuries ago. Now it's impossible to say. If you form the words it just comes out ______."

Bethy gasped in excitement. "You can DO that? That's amazing! What if I took everyone's name from them? I could make everybody nameless like that. Or wait, I could make them all change their names to Bethy! There would be an army of Bethy! A sea of Bethy, the rivers would run red with Bethy!" She threw back her head and cackled in what I'm pretty sure she thought was a menacing boom, but was actually more ridiculous than scary.

"But wait," she said slowly. "How do I take your names? Wait…can I drink them? Somebody let me bite them so I can drink their name!" She looked around frantically, clearly excited to test a new possible use of her powers.

I sighed. "Bethy, none of us are thralls and your bite causes agonizing pain. And no, you can't just bite one of the new guys. Just because we don't know all their names doesn't mean they're expendable."

"You don't know our names?" asked one of the faceless hordes of Ascendants I'd recruited. I was PRETTY sure he was one of Belsara's group.

I clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course I do…you."

Callie pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's Ken. Sorry Ken, my husband gets absent minded in his pursuit of progress. I'll make sure he learns everyone's names as soon as we have some free time. Now Mr…nameless. You'll be guiding us to the city?"

The spokes radiated out from the A-rank cities on either pole. Though there was more than a single city in the B-rank zone, there were still only ten. Combined with the staggering number of competitors that meant we were very likely to run into plenty of my fellow candidates in whatever city we ended up in.

Sure enough, as soon as I took a step away from the cave entrance I got a new task. This one was just to reach Veltheim in time for the "conclave of candidates". Normally, an easy task like that would be a relief, but I was immediately deeply distrustful of it.

Much like the previous task, which had prioritized the safety of the candidates, this one was strange. The only thing I could think of that would necessitate that kind of arrangement was if someone was planning to clue the others in on the Void invasion. Which was an alarming thought.

Firstly, it hadn't been done before for a reason. But more importantly, we'd be gathering together all the candidates in one location, which was a huge security risk. I could only hope that this risk had been weighed by the elders. Not that I was against the thought of getting some help, but I knew it was a big gamble, especially with so many suspected traitors on world.

The nameless man nodded, tapping his crook, and his sheep took flight, circling around us once and then flying back the way he'd come. Because they looked so free and easy, I decided to let Archie out to follow them. He would be able to scout ahead as well as enjoy himself, so I had Bethy release him from her Domain.

My phoenix companion trilled in excitement as he swept off into the blue sky, and the rest of us set off after the nameless man, who had just turned to leave rather than elaborate. The trip was shockingly quick and easy, given the absence of any real threats out here. I wondered if that was an expected aspect of this ring or if the obstacles had been removed to streamline the conclave.

My B-rankers were all together this time. Crell, despite not being the strongest or most experienced, was in charge of that contingent, on my orders. The former lord of the Ghost Bone Tower was one of the craftiest and most terrifying people I'd ever met, and there was no one I'd trust more in a leadership position among my people except Zeke or one of my parents.

For his part, the B-rank looked both smug and relaxed when we showed up, flanked by Carmichael and Alanna, the sword mistress and Dez's dad from the dungeon. The boxer looked a lot more energetic and excited than I'd ever seen him before. Ellisara, who was sticking close to me as my guard, eyed the master manipulator doubtfully. "This is the captain you chose for your B-rank force? He's barely out of C-rank."

"He's got a Mythical skill," I shrugged. "And he's more clever than he looks."

She scowled at him suspiciously. "We'll see. If he wants to be in charge he'll need to earn it. I won't follow some cowardly schemer who can't even get his hands dirty. Your mother told me to guard you, not listen to you. And you, you might have our little lord here fooled, but I don't believe you're capable of running things here for a second. C-rank or not, I could crush you with my bare hands, nevermind my mace."

Crell put both palms up inoffensively, giving her a lazy smile. "Whoa there, don't shoot. I realize I'm a bit underqualified for the job, but Shane himself isn't exactly the most experienced. Trust is more important than raw power don't you think?"

"Um, for the record, I do NOT trust you," I said, raising my hand helpfully. "I like you well enough, though even that wasn't true at first, but I definitely don't trust you. You're bound by contract not to harm me, but you're way too slippery for me to place unconditional faith in. But then, I don't trust you either, Ellie. No offense, but you work for my mom, not me. My mother and I aren't the same person, and if you think something is in her interests and I don't think it's in mine, you'll still do it. That makes you somewhat unreliable in my eyes."

She blinked at that. "I…did not get that impression from you. You seemed perfectly comfortable with me."

"Oh, I am," I assured her. "I just don't trust you. I trust almost nobody. I could count the list on one hand. I don't need to trust someone to like or get along with them. So you don't need to worry about Crell betraying me, because I'm always ready for that. I learned that lesson the hard way." The feeling of a blade sliding into my flesh when Travis turned on us was one of the most vivid experiences of my life. Not for the pain itself, but for the impotent rage and helplessness I felt during the incident.

To my surprise, rather than get offended, Ellie grinned at me approvingly. "That's probably the smartest thing I've ever heard you say, Shane. I'm impressed. You've got your head on straighter than I'd expected, given your touchy feely attitude about friendship."

"People take that kind of thing personally, even when it's not meant that way," I shrugged. "No need to bring attention to my own issues when it'll just start a fight."

She hummed in acknowledgement, then turned to Crell. "Alright, I'll buy it. For now. But I'll be watching you. And like the little lord said, I'm not here on his orders. If I decide you're a threat, you'll never see me coming, no matter how sneaky you are."

Crell fanned himself dramatically. "Bestill my heart. I think I'm in love. Don't you worry about the boss. He's my gravy train. If he becomes the Wishmaster, as one of his most important vassals, I'll have an all access pass to one of the most expansive factions in the universe. You can't buy access like that. I'll do whatever I need to do to get him to the top."

That was surprising. Not because he was acting out of self interest, that was perfectly predictable, but because it implied he'd been doing extensive research since emerging from the dungeon, which I hadn't seen any real sign of. I suppose expecting someone like Crell to tip his hand was naive, but honestly, I was slightly MORE comfortable with him now that I knew his angle, contract or no.

I turned to my current second in command. "So, I trust you've been making inroads with the locals and gathering intel on this conclave? I'll put you in touch with Devlan, he's our man on the ground for some of the local factions. His uncle runs The High Society in the C-rank zone and he has some contacts that could help you make inroads. The Marsh Elves too."

"B-rankers are more hesitant to shake up the status quo," he grimaced, gesturing around at the fresh and pleasant atmosphere. "Not as much to gain, more to lose. The inner rings are a pretty sweet setup. Not to say we have no interested parties, but negotiations are ongoing. Especially with this conclave in town. Lots of competition. I have at least three possibles and one strongly implied yes."

I sighed, but nodded. That made sense. I hadn't been expecting to roll up B-rankers like I had the earlier factions anyway. Every A-rank was going to be a legitimate nightmare to recruit, with legions of followers and scaths of influence. The B-rankers, as the next link in the chain and the go betweens for all the lower ranked zones, would be the key to swaying any of those, and they knew it. Which meant we'd need to wine and dine them, regardless of the urgency of the Void incursion.

"Alright, politics," I exhaled in annoyance. "Fun. But doable. For now, take us to wherever you've been staying." I had a message incoming about the next step in this task, and I wanted to know what was on the horizon. Honestly, I kind of missed when Void monsters had been trying to kill us. I had a feeling this was going to be so much more irritating.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I considered what I needed to do for a while after we arrived in Veltheim. Crell had secured us an entire boarding house…somehow. He refused to elaborate on how, and every time I tried to push he made up a different story. Based on the commonalities, I was PRETTY sure it had something to do with a pie eating contest, or possibly a bear. Then again, trying to weasel the truth out of someone with his skillset was probably a lost cause.


Once we were settled in though (Callie and I claimed the penthouse first thing), I started considering next steps. Firstly, I needed backup. Not just my people, everyone would have those, I needed WYNDHAM backup. Belsara and Nat were a good start, but I could do better. With the Void Incursion looming, I had a real chance to put together something that would have been impossible before now. A legitimate power bloc.


In fact, I suspected half the POINT of the last trial before we reached the city was to pave the way for this exact scenario, forcing us to meet each other in non lethal conditions to feel out possible allies.


Alys was one, obviously. My sunny cousin was probably the most reasonable of the Wyndhams I'd met. I got a good feeling from her, and I always trusted my instincts.


There were others. A dour looking dark haired Wyndham named Charlie, with a keen eye and a mind for details. He'd almost caught us when we'd ambushed him, and had effectively negotiated a peaceful surrender with the warning. An intense cousin named Nadia, who was probably the steeliest family member I'd ever met, willing to throw down with us without flinching rather than be rolled over.


A surprisingly bloodthirsty family member named Derrick who might have been the most openly chaotic and battle crazy person I'd ever met after Abel, but who had backed down when my mentor beat him in a straight fight.


Each of them were uniquely suited to joining our little clique for one reason or another, even if for some that reason was just "because I said so". Contacting them with some on Nat's scrolls was child's play though, so after reaching out to arrange a meeting when they arrived (since we'd waylaid them in the labyrinth they were obviously running behind, though a few of them had arrived) and I contacted Crell to set them up.


"You want to rent out a tavern?" He asked me over my scan ring. "That'll be expensive, but it's not a terrible idea. I've arranged a few meetings, like I said, but if we can get some of them to come to you there's a better chance of getting them onboard. Politics is about prestige. About leaving an impression. Home turf advantage is always a plus when dealing with potential allies or even enemies. Word gets out that you're holding court, especially with other Wyndhams attending, people start to get a certain impression of you."


Callie, who was sitting on the couch next to me in our room, nodded along. "He's right, we all know how important renown is to Ascendants. And that usefulness applies at a micro as well as a macro level. I trust you have some useful contacts who can spread the word, make sure it reaches the right people at the right moment. Timing is the most important part of any story."


He rolled his eyes. "Girl, I was building empires when you were scraping your knee on the playground. I know how to do my job. I ran an INFORMATION broker service. I'll put the word out so people lay eyes on the place at exactly the right time. That's the big trick. A proper rumor can't be spread as a reaction. You need to start the whispers in advance, so the witnesses all arrive JUST in time to see the big event. That's how you get the most impact."


"I'll leave it to you then," I told him cheerfully. "Just don't fuck it up, of Ellie might have some things to say about your effectiveness as my subordinate."


I hung up without waiting for him to respond, though I saw he was amused and somewhat intrigued. Callie snorted at his expression as it faded. "Should we be worried about that? Your mom won't kill him for trying to flirt with her disciple will she? I think Ellie is a future saintess or something."


"My mom has two kids," I pointed out mildly. "I don't think the church requires people give up romance. Past that, it's not our business. And I don't really want it to be. We have an army of over a thousand supernaturally fit supernaturally youthful people with big flashy personalities working for us now. I'm pretty sure we should draw the line about our interest in their personal lives REAL close to our inner circle, otherwise our lives will turn into a soap opera."


She snorted at that. "Yeah, because our lives definitely don't already resemble one of those. Now, if we're holding court I think we should be in top form. Let's take a nap while we have a few hours to kill."


"If I ever forgot how much I loved you, which I assure you is impossible, making suggestions like that would remind me instantly," I told her soulfully. Then I tossed her over my shoulder and trekked over to the bed, flopping down beside her as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. There was really nothing like a good nap.


We were awakened an indeterminate amount of time later by another call. I grumbled, but forced my brain to sputter to life as I pawed at my hand with my other hand. When the screen popped up, it was Crell again, and a quick check of the time told me that he was probably calling about the completed arrangements. It had been hours. I'd given him the timeframe of our meetup and once he told me the location I'd contact the others. I wanted to trust them, but since I had to wait anyway, only telling them the meetup spot last minute would serve as an extra layer of insurance.


The tavern we rented out wasn't far, and I slipped back into my armor before readying to leave. Tracing my fingers over it, I felt the edges of the gouges that Drewnokk had left. My C-rank plate was quickly becoming outdated. When my grandmother gave it to me all those months ago, it had basically been a guarantee of safety. Now that I was almost C-rank myself, it was clearly not enough. Unfortunately, full plate was EXPENSIVE, and it got more expensive the further up you went. For the same reason there were very few S-rank ships and the ones that did exist were small vessels like the Acheron, making a full suit of body armor out of high grade materials was difficult to justify.


Callie stepped behind me, tucking herself under my arm and laying her head against my chest. "Credit for your thoughts?"


"Just worrying about my armor, might need an upgrade," I glanced down at her, admiring her costume. "I'd be a lot more comfortable if you upgraded to something a bit more hard shelled. The dress is lovely, but I worry about you."


She snorted. "I'm a heretic angel now, love. I'm more durable than you are. Worry about yourself." Her own fingers found the marks. "But you're not wrong. I was pretty worried when those claws laid into you." Her eyes flashed, pulsing blue black. "If I get my hands on that harpy, I'll tear the wings off him like a fly for what he tried to do to you, not to mention how upset he made Bethy."


"I have a feeling we might need to wait on that," I grimaced. "I won't be the only one making alliances. With the Void incoming, we can't jeopardize our potential power bloc by pitting them against another group. The twins are too effective with that asshole onboard. Anyone who can hang with Bethy is someone we can't afford to ignore. Not just as an enemy, but as a potential ally for others."


She beamed at me, despite the sour wrinkle in her brow. "Was that POLITICAL savvy from my sneaky brute of a husband? I'm so proud. I can't wait to tell your mother, she's going to be SO impressed."


"Shhh," I said solemnly, raising a finger to my mask. "Don't tell anyone. If they figure out I can do it everyone will expect me to handle all the politics. I've made sure to cultivate a reputation as a political incompetent. Of course, I cultivated that reputation by BEING politically incompetent, but that's the genius of it. It's foolproof."


She reached up to cup either side of my face behind my mask with a sly smile. "Oh, honey, if being married to you has taught me anything its that nothing is foolproof.


"Impudence!" I boomed in a faux arrogant tone. "I demand satisfaction!"


She winked at me. "Later, we have a meeting to go to." She chucked me under the chin with her finger and turned to sashay away, and I just laughed, following her with a smile. It never ceased to amaze me. She always knew just how to turn any fear or worry in my guy into surety and confidence. I would never have gotten to where I was without my wife, and I made sure to let that bleed through the bond so she could feel it. The love and devotion that fed back over the connection equalled mine in intensity and passion, and my heart warmed as I felt the concrete evidence of how much she adored me.


Crell was waiting for us outside, chatting animatedly at Ellie, who looked suspicious and tense. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw us. "What took you two so long? We're going to be late."


"Took a nap," I said with a shrug. "And he JUST woke us up, so blame him if the timetable is off."


"Gladly," she said, shooting Crell an irritated glance. He returned it with a winning smile, and she rolled her eyes as she hustled us out of the building. I hadn't known she was coming with us, not specifically, but it didn't surprise me. Ellie was our personal guard, and I wasn't at all shocked to see Felicity fall into step on the other side of us, nor to spot Argaunt following from a distance.


They were C-rankers, true, but Carmichael was here as well, and Alanna was following closely behind. Both of them were not only B-rank, but had Mythical skills on top of it making them truly dangerous enemies even in a B-rank city.


Aside from them though, I was surprised to see Tilda with us, the dark haired green eyed member of the high society who had infiltrated the orphanage and whom Callie had decided to take into her service. She'd been outfitted in a dress that looked just like my wife's along with a mask and cloak that made them look like sisters, and I cocked my head at Callie when I saw her. "You have a sidekick now?"


Sidekicks weren't unheard of back home, though they were unusual. As I'd become an Ascendant I'd figured out that while a sidekick could be boosted alongside their mentor by fame, they ALSO detracted from the renown that an Ascendant could gather for themselves, so it was certainly a choice.


She shrugged. "I like Bella, and she made me want a disciple of my own. Speaking of, where is she? You should bring her along for this, show her how it's done."


"I'm not sure I KNOW how it's done," I said wryly. "But you're not wrong." I whistled loudly, and a green streak shot down from above to perch on my wrist. "Hey bud, take this to Bella," I scrawled a quick note and passed it to Archie, who trilled and then took off to find my apprentice. I could have just called, but I had a rep to maintain. No. Not maintain. Expand. I needed to grow my reputation as quickly as possible. Hopefully that was just around the corner.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Derrick was the first to arrive. I'm somehow not surprised, Derrick reminds me uncomfortably of Abel, and my mentor is never late to a party unless it's fashionable. Unlike Abel though, Derrick was also young and incredibly eager to prove himself. Choosing to become a combat focused Wishmaster candidate spoke to a deep love of battle and glory. His wishes were probably all very heavily Might focused.


Which is what made it both surprising and somehow incredibly unsurprising at the same time when he kicked the door in with a crash bellowing. "Derrick ARRIVES!"


I glowered at him from the table where Callie and I were enjoying a meal. "Can Derrick shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to eat."


Callie looked appalled, but Derrick just grinned at me. "Sorry cousin, I didn't realize you had such a delicate constitution. I'll try to speak softly so as not to give you indigestion. After all I wouldn- OW ow ow, Molly stop that hurts!"


The tiny purple haired woman who had entered behind him had reached up and grabbed his earlobe viciously, twisting and pulling him down so she could shout right into it. "We are here for an ALLIANCE meeting you colossal child! I asked you to do one thing! Don't provoke the host, and what is the first thing you do?"


"I like her," Callie said with a grin. "She gets things done."


"Don't get any ideas," I said mildly. "I'm not some musclebound dunce like Derrick. And you're strong as hell as a heretic angel. You'd probably rip my ear off"


She pouted at me cutely. "Spoilsport, you know I could never bear to see you hurting."


Smiling softly at her, I reached across the table to take her hand, intertwining our fingers. "Awww, Cryton they're so cute!" Chirped the sunny voice of Alys as she stepped inside past the squabbling duo. "Why aren't you ever that sweet with me." She tucked herself under the copper titan's arm, resting her head on his shoulder like a cuddly kitten.


"Because it would shatter my reputation in front of potential adversaries," he said in a resigned tone. "Like this is doing right now."


"Man, she's got you wrapped around her finger, huh buddy?" I asked him with a wide grin.


My wife glowered at me. "Are you saying loving your significant other is some kind of sign of weakness?"


"No dear, sorry dear," I said immediately, dramatically flicking my eyes down to stare at my food like I was cowed. Though not before winking at my cousin and her apparent boyfriend. Alys giggled at the exchange, and Cryton looked mildly amused if still long suffering.


The next pair to enter was Nadia and her own second. Nadia was a short dark skinned girl with soft features and and quiet demeanor, but she had an IRON spine when pushed. I swear she'd been willing to die with us rather than get pushed around, despite being heavily outnumbered and outmatched. She was willing to negotiate, luckily, but her nerve had made a strong impression.


At her side was a tall pale girl with sparkling silver hair wearing a set of gleaming armor, and, of all things, a crystal tiara. Bryn was Nadia's second, basically what Callie was to me and Valk was to Nat, the main focus of her wishing and one of her closest advisors and friends.


Charlie was the last to arrive, alongside his retained Walter, the men resembling nothing so much as a pair of brothers, both being tall and having dark hair and eyes. They didn't join in the teasing banter like Alys and Derrick, being much more reserved. Belsara was, of course, already here, along with Nat, though both of them were part of my own retinue rather than being individual participants. They were sitting with Ellie, Felicity, and Crell, who I suspected was keeping them all from being noticed.


I frowned down at my pot pie. "I'm going to have to eat this later, aren't I? Or get a new one." I pushed it across the table. "Here, hon, you can have it. I'll look like a savage trying to run a meeting with my mouth full."


My wife just squealed in delight, snagging it and dragging it across the table as she released my hand, I laughed, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Just chime in through me if you have anything to add. And enjoy." I glanced up at my four cousins. "Let's sit at the big table so we can fit everyone, shall we?"


"I get to sit at the head of the table!" Derrick proclaimed loudly, having since freed himself from Molly's grasp.


Cryton was none to pleased with that. "You're not even the oldest Wyndham here. Everyone knows etiquette is for the host to sit at one end and the eldest at the other. Eldest would be Nadia." I wasn't even going to ask how he knew that, because I had no idea who was the oldest, but it was good info.


Derrick just sneered at him. "You better shut your mouth servant, or I'll have your guts for garters."


"You wear garters?" Cryton said with an unconcerned smirk.


My cousin flinched. "Wait, what? No! It's a turn of phrase! You know that's not what I meant!" He pointed accusingly at Cryton. "Don't make me kick your ass!"


"Is that a turn of phrase too?" Cryton said smugly. "Because metaphor is the only way you could ever hope to beat me in a fight."


"Enough!" I cut in, my voice booming as I reached back for my old "Fist" persona. "The table is round you fucking idiots. Because I KNEW you morons would argue about this. Now come sit down so we can start the meeting. If I wasted a pot pie for no reason I'm going to have Abel and Bethy kick BOTH your asses."


Alys and Molly both snickered at the misfortune of their respective partners, and my sunny cousin beamed at the camaraderie. I could already tell Molly had just accidentally made a friend for life. Alys was the type to make friends with everyone.


It's…weirdly familiar honestly. The vibe with my relatives is a lot like with my friends. Not personality wise, really. But the bickering and the shit talking reminds me of how I interact with people like Benny and Abel. It's really nice. I have Chelsea, and we've gotten closer, but I never really had a BIG family. Or I did, but it never felt like it. I didn't know these people well, but I felt comfortable with them.


Which I considered might be recursion, actually. The us against the world mentality was part of the Wyndham lore. As was the copious amounts of infighting, granted. But positive recursion tended to be harder to resist than negative. The instinct to be a backstabbing dick was something any of my friendlier relatives would push back against, but instinctively liking and wanting to get closer to someone? Why would you want to avoid that? I wondered if the old man had actually considered that before he formed the family as it was? Or maybe I was giving him too much credit, who knew what gods were capable of?


Shaking that off, I plopped down in my seat. Renting the round table had been Crell's idea, actually, and he'd definitely proved his worth again with that little spark of genius. I wondered if he knew about the Wyndham meeting customs or just assumed a bunch of megalomaniacal reality warpers would be prickly about status.


"So, what do any of you know about the reasons for the recent changes in the succession war?" I asked bluntly, trying to gauge where to start this.


Alys grimaced. "I've heard some…not so great stuff. I started asking around, and word on the street is the Void is involved. I mean, something is clearly going on, but I was hoping they were just updating the competition or something. It's been static for a long time."


"The Void is sticking their nose into things now?" Nadia asked grimly. "I'd have expected those graveborn upstarts of being behind things if there was an outside force, why would the Void be intervening?"


"The Void hate us," I told her bluntly. "And the Vanished gods provided a point of access and a distraction. Having dealt with them a bunch of times, I can promise you that they view any opportunity to fuck up realspace as a gift from whatever they have that passes for gods. But yes, Alys is right. The Void is here, and they're making a play to wipe out the entire current generation of the WCP and every one of our retainers along with us."


I explained the situation, filling them in on the Void ladder and the danger on the horizon. The relaxed atmosphere vanished in moments. Say what you wanted about my family, but they knew how to get down to business when it was time to be serious. I suppose none of them would have reached this point if they hadn't.


Nadia was the first to respond after I finished. "That is…most distressing," she admitted. "I'll have to confirm your story, of course. But I can see why you approached us. Strength in numbers, and all that. But how do we deal with the obvious flaw in that plan?"


"The succession war," I sighed. "I know. We all want to win, I assume?" I got nods, unsurprisingly. "But it seems like they're going to be shifting away from direct combat. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to see them mobilizing us against the Void invaders directly through tasks in the upcoming rounds. While in the past, working together might have been kind of tricky, I think we could manage it this time."


The rest of them all seem to look to Nadia as the leader, at least in this context. I'm approaching them, but Nadia is clearly someone to be deferred to. I suppose because she's the eldest. I assume from them KNOWING she's the eldest that they have much better sources about the family than I do.


"It might be possible," she hedged slowly. "I suppose. The Void is certainly a larger problem than a bit of advantage in the competition, though obviously not as large as the succession war itself."


I find myself…agreeing with that. I'd been doing a lot of thinking about this, and my momentum for growth was a HUGE advantage. But that momentum was going to start slowing down once I hit C-rank. I'd need ten million points for my next rank up, and the current trickle of income I had wouldn't BEGIN to cover that anytime soon. My best shot at advancing quickly and finally catching up to my Path advancement was winning this. Becoming the Wishmaster was a coveted position for a reason. The sheer quantity of renown incoming from the office would make reaching B-rank a breeze.


Damn. I'd been corrupted by the WCP and turned into one of those maniacs who thought the succession war was the most important thing. How the mighty had fallen.


"I think we should get an idea what the conclave will entail before making any concrete decisions," I said easily. "Make sure that our upcoming tasks end up being team compatible. If so…well, let's just call this meeting an early audition. I think we could all work really well together. For now though, we should all get to know each other a bit better and you can check into everything I told you." I raised a hand, gesturing to the man behind the bar. "Barkeep, pot pies for everyone, on me!"


Everyone seemed receptive, and I ignored my wife's internal snickering that I'd pivoted the whole meeting to get another pot pie. She was mistaken. I was just being a good host. But man, that pot pie was amazing. I was totally going to have seconds.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Once my cousins were gone, Crell approached me about another meeting, this one with one of the locals. "Well, the plan worked like a charm," my advisor said as he dropped down into the chair across from me. "One of the more deadly local bosses has reached out to us to speak to you. The current Lord of the Hall of Steel, Fade Genix, has expressed interest in a potential alliance."


"The Hall of Steel?" I asked with interest. "Sounds impressive, what do they…do?"


"Bodyguards and mercenaries mostly," he shrugged. "But they have an excellent reputation. Hall fo Steel guards are prized for their discretion and adherence to contracts. As well as their nearly invincible skills in single combat. They're particularly popular as stand ins for duels, and one Hall of Steel Centurion is worth ten regular fighters…and costs about thirty times as much. Getting them to sign on with us as actual contracted supporters would be HUGE."


Callie beamed at me. "And they want to work with YOU. So many of your cousins in the city and they approached us, I'm so proud of you honey. You've done so much with so little coming into this war, and someone has taken notice. This is where things turn around for us, you'll see."


I laughed at that. I wasn't sure how much we NEEDED to turn them around, honestly. Despite the Void nonsense we hadn't been doing too badly for ourselves to begin with. But I wouldn't say that to Callie. She was the one who was haunted by all this Void bullshit to begin with, and I absolutely did not want to downplay what must be a terrible and frightening experience for her. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me and sending love and reassurance through the bond.


She relaxed against me, melting into my embrace for a second, and we just ignored everything around us for a moment, enjoying a world where we were the only two people in existence.


"This is very sweet, but we DO have a meeting beginning any minute," Crell said with a frustrated groan. "Benny was right, you two ARE insufferable when you're feeling affectionate. You're giving me a toothache."


"Philistine," Ellie said with a sneer. "I think it's wonderful the little lord has found such a caring and devoted partner. Your mother told me how much you two adore each other, but seeing it myself is so sweet. I feel obligated to mention that my master has only refrained from expressing her fervent desire for grandbabies to give you two your space. Aunty thoughts on when we're going to see some little angels flying around?"


Callie squeaked in mortification. "That's…ELLIE! We're twenty! You can't just…we're not..but WAR!"


"And if you WIN that war, you'd be in a perfect position to have kids!" she chirped happily. "Shane would be the Wishmaster, and you'd have the full resources of the WCP to dedicate to the safety and health of your children."


I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. "You know, you seem awfully invested in the parental potential of a pair of twenty year olds for someone who claims she WASN'T instigated by my mother." She froze, her eyes darting left and right desperately. I considered just outright busting her on it…but I honestly didn't blame my mom. Not that I was ready to be a father yet, but given how she'd lost so many years with me, now that the family was back together, it only made sense that she'd want a grandchild to spoil. In fact there was no reas- my mind shut down, a horrified look crawling across my face.


Callie, who noticed my horror through the bond, turned to look at me in concern. "Shane? What is it?"


"I just realized I left my parents alone in the A-rank city for the first extended period of time since my sister and I were separated," I said, my voice filled with indescribable discomfort. "You don't think I'm going to end up with a sibling by the time we get there, do you?"


Ellie burst out laughing. "Oh, buddy. It sounds like you don't want the answer to that question."


I cringed. Nobody wanted to think about their parents getting together, but the fact that mine looked about the same age as me and that I was really just getting to know them properly made it infinitely more awkward. I shook the thoughts out of my head firmly. Not my business, didn't want to think about it. "Speaking of subject changes," I said in a forced cheerful tone. "When exactly is Fade going to get here?"


"Announcing his excellency, Lord Fade Genix," came a pompous booming voice from outside the tavern. "Lord of the House of Steel, grand protector of the iron fields, fist of the unflagging, saint of the sword, blade of-"


"For the love of the gods Dremman, enough," came a tired voice. "I understand you want to establish my credentials, but we're going to be here all day, and half of those titles don't even make sense. You don't have to list EVERY single name anyone has ever called me. I doubt Master Wyndham is so petty as to be swayed by a few meaningless titles in any case." Despite the harsh words, his voice sounded easy and confident, not angry or perturbed at all.


I glanced at Crell, who shrugged. It wasn't odd we could hear them talking, our Perceptions were all well north of five or six digits. I cleared my throat. "Please, enter and be welcome Lord Fade," I called casually. Sure enough, as soon as I spoke, the door of the room pushed open, and one of the most intimidating people I'd ever met stepped inside.


B-rankers, by and large, came in many flavors. Some of them were terrifying, some of the unassuming. Zeke had a unique knack for masking his nature and coming across as a freewheeling fun loving layabout, whereas some of my more combat focused B-rank retainers were more the type to impose their will on the world around them through force.


It wasn't anything as direct of notable as a Domain, obviously, but B-rankers with condensed Chronicles tended to EXUDE their Path in the same way that Abel used to do during combat. I wasn't sure if that was just very strong ones or if they had always done that and I just lacked the senses to perceive it, but it was pretty clear to me that Fade was incredibly in tune with his path and Chronicle, to the point where they bled through his every movement.


All I could see when I looked at him was metal. Not literally, though his irises did gleam like polished steel, but subconsciously. His gaze was razor sharp, his steps solid and implacable, and every gesture and movement resembled some form of metallic item or concept. It was frankly staggering, a level of communion between man and Path I had never experienced before, and one far beyond the normal leakage that I got from B-rankers. Of course, a case could be made that most of the more powerful Ascendants I'd met had control too good to show this kind of external signage, but still, it made an impression either way.


I stepped away from Callie, beaming at the B-ranker and offering my hand. "Lord Fade, good to see you. I appreciate you requesting this meeting. I had planned to reach out myself if you hadn't, the Hall of Steel is famed for its discretion and ability, and I'd be a fool not to express interest in working with such an effective force."


Judging by his raised eyebrow, I was laying it on a little thick, but thankfully not thick enough to warrant any annoyance. Which was fair, I wasn't quite as polished at sweet talking people in this context as some of my friends and advisors. Still, I didn't think I'd done too badly, and Fade happily joined us at the table alongside his herald Dremman, a goliath of a man with tan skin, a shaved head, and tattoos around one eye.


We all sat down, ready to eat yet more pot pies (I loved them so much), and I finally decided to get down to business. "So. Now that we're settled in, I suppose the obvious questions need to be asked. Namely, what do you want, and what can you offer? I'm not naive enough to assume I'm the best of my cousins from a power or utility standpoint. Admittedly I have some impressive allies, and there ARE benefits to working on my side, but as one of the premiere B-rankers in this ring you could have your pick of basically any Wyndham."


Far from being offended, Fade looked pleased at my candor. "An excellent question. My offering, of course, is the full strength of the Hall of Steel. Ninety peak C-rankers and ten B-rankers including myself. A hundred of the most talented and well trained warriors on the heirworld. And a faction unaffiliated with any of the higher level machinations you might trip over with the other potential allies you have available."


That was solid. Ten B-rankers was double my current number, and another ninety C-rankers on top of that was staggering. Not to mention they were all elites, and should be able to hold their own with people like Ellie. Considering how lopsided things got dealing with the twins, I was excited to expand my forces so mightily.


"Which brings us too my second question," I pointed out. "Why me? Like I said, there are better options. I'll do my best to work with you, but this isn't going to be easy. I MIGHT lose. I'll still try to get as many of you out as possible when I leave, but you might need to leave some of your forces behind. Are you willing to risk that?"


Fade grinned wolfishly. "Honest as well as flattering. Not a bad combination. I never like sycophants, and I'm going to be working for you, not the other way around. In fact, that's part of what drew me to you. That and the stories surrounding your father. Competence aside, the Wish Devil is infamous and celebrated in equal measure for his commitment to contracts. As someone who prides myself on his word, having an employer so motivated to keep to our agreement appeals to me.


"While many will sign a contract, adherence to the letter and spirit of an agreement are different things," he explained, sitting back as he cut into his pot pie. "While I certainly expect you to try to get the best deal possible, I have confidence you'll act in good faith beyond such negotiations. I can't say the same for many of your cousins."


That…was probably fair, honestly. Wyndhams were slippery bastards. Hell, our signature skill was literally predicated on milking triple the value of our stats to our benefit. As much water as the "fair compensation" clause carried in the wish power, the fact was that we were all predisposed to try to get something for nothing.


I, at least, respected my contracts and did my best to abide by them. Knowing that implied an excellent information source, which I hoped to pick Fade's brain about at some point, but regardless. I understood his purpose for coming here.


"Alright," I said with a solemn nod. "I get that. So, I suppose all we have left to deal with is the contract."


He smiled grimly, his eyes gleaming like an unsheathed blade. "Not quite. Respect for contracts is well and good, but my reputation is not merely contractual. It's built on competence. If you want my people to work for you, we're going to need a demonstration of your own capabilities. Coincidentally, this will allow you to announce your capability to the rest of the city as well, strengthening your position in Veltheim.


"But make no mistake, I do not speak of a representative. I speak of YOU. If you want to earn my fealty, I expect you to shed blood for it." His gaze bored into me like a drill. "Be it yours or someone else's, blood must spill. So, what do you say? Are you willing to engage in a personal exhibition match in front of the entire city?" The room went silent, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Well. Hadn't been expecting that.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Obviously, I accepted. Fade was a complete monster in combat from what I could tell, someone who stood at the absolute peak of the heirworld in terms of battle skill. Having him and his people on board would not only make my claim to victory stronger, but would make all my people that much safer during the Void invasion.


Fade didn't stay, wishing me well and telling me the time and date of my match, which would be the next day. I sighed internally at the news. Fade's challenge was going to hang all my plans. Every possible alliance, in or out of the family, was going to be waiting for the dime to drop, which meant he'd essentially guaranteed I'd get no responses until after it happened. I turned to Crell with a grimace. "So, Mr. Info Broker, any idea who I'm going to be fighting?"


He hissed in displeasure. "There are…a finite number of options. But none of them are good."


"I know it's not one of Fade's direct subordinates, at least," I said hopefully. "He was pretty clear he only had a hundred and there's no D-rankers. He IS going to put me against a D-ranker, right?"


"Definitely," he assured me. "The House of Steel is all about their rep. He won't ruin his to punch down at you. That wouldn't accomplish anything. He might as well have just said no or not come here at all. No, you'll be fighting a D-ranker, though most likely a VERY dangerous one. The House of Steel doesn't have any upstream connections, but they have plenty downstream. They're one of the most dangerous factions in the B-rank zone, and they're absurdly selective, but EVERYONE wants to join."


I sighed. "So I'm going to have every idealistic kid with a dream and a dagger lining up to kick my ass to show their local celebrities that they have what it takes to run with the big dogs?" His nod was not encouraging.


Callie looked unconcerned though. "Shane, honey, not just anyone will be able to hang with you. With all your forms and your gear and your training, not to mention being less than a hundred thousand points from C-rank, you're sitting near or even past the peak of D-rank power. And that's not even taking into account your Path bullshit. Not that there's no one in D-rank who could threaten you, we know that's not true, but it'll need to be someone scary. I'm guessing there aren't THAT many truly terrifying options close enough to a feasible possibility." She raised an eyebrow at Crell.


He grimaced. "Four, that I can think of. Two of them aren't in town, but with all the factions and candidates trekking into the city, they might show up. The crosssection of D-rank fighters who could give Shane a decent fight, have the qualities the House of Steel are looking for, and haven't broken through yet within a few days travel…it's not exactly definitive, but that's enough parameters to narrow it down."


We stared at him flatly, waiting for him to elaborate, and he jumped in his seat after a second. "Oh, you mean like…now."


"Yes NOW," spat Ellie with annoyance. "When the hell else would they mean?"


"I don't know, it just seemed like a later conversation, it's not like we don't have all night," he said sulkily. "But fine, a quadret of dossiers coming up. I'll start least likely and work my way up. Firstly, the one I sincerely doubt you'll face is Oryan. Master archer, clone powers, and he uses some sort of insanely dangerous super bow. His arrows almost never miss, and they can do weird shit like curve. Combined with the cloning you end up under a rain of arrows within seconds. His Might is stupid high, both because he's extremely mobile and because the bow he uses is GIGANTIC and takes immense power to draw."


I whistled. "And I'm NOT going to fight him?" I asked hopefully. "Because I don't really LOVE the idea of fighting a walking artillery barrage." I could counter him, between my predictive abilities and my various tricks I'd probably be fine. Probably. But it would be a long and obnoxious fight I'd rather just avoid.


Surprisingly Ellie answered this one. "The optics are off," she said with a shake of her head. "Sends the wrong message. The Hall of Steel are professional soldiers. Close combat elites and warrior geniuses. Fielding a ranged combatant who relies on overwhelming firepower to just blast you down runs counter to the whole purpose of the duel."


Crell tapped his nose. "Yup. Got it in one. Same reason the second one is out. Light based stealth assassin named Dawn. Fast as hell and with a bunch of weird cauterizing laser stab tricks. Bends light to become invisible. Same problem though, like we said. In fact, it's even worse, because not only is the sneaky stabby thing "dishonorable" it's also boring to watch. They want to put on a good show even if they lose, which remember they're hoping they do.


"Now, the third one is one of the two options that you're most likely to run into. Big ass armored bastard named Clayton Rivers," his tone was surprisingly appreciative. "He has some kind of density shifting ability I think. Prefers charges. He MIGHT be an Adamant. I haven't been able to confirm, but I do know he isn't someone you want to meet head on. Rivers is probably the best representative of brute force in your face combat I can imagine, and he definitely fits the image to an extent."


"I don't see that one," Ellie said, shaking her head. "Too blunt. Fade struck me as the economy of motion type. He likes force, but only as much as necessary. I'd bet credits to donuts he doesn't want a brute force brawl. He wants something sophisticated. Style and brutality. He wants his guy to win and look good doing it. Raw skill and effortless violence are that guy's cup of tea." She raised an eyebrow at Crell. "I'm right, aren't I? The last one is a weapons prodigy or something?"


He shrugged. "Duellist," he admitted easily. "Some kind of blood based power, at least that's what people think, he's subtle about it. Cyrus the Red. He was actually my pick for most likely too. He's FAST, and very scary. Uses a rapier, and you don't want to let him cut you."


"I assume I should probably worry about the same sort of issues as the Hall?" I asked as I leaned back in my chair. "Light cuts with blood powers would be easy enough to counter with something like Belial. Can't cut me if I'm made of rock. How should I approach this? Do I crush him with overwhelming force, or would that make me come across as cocky or insulting?"


Ellie beamed at me. "And you say you aren't any good at politics. An excellent question, little lord. I would suggest you lean on more martial avenues of fighting. A knock down drag out fight is going to leave more of an impression on a group like the Hall of Steel. You could WIN by just blasting him or smashing him with a giant rock hand, but that would only be a win, and not a victory."


"Style and brutality," I repeated her earlier words. "I can do that. Glory is pretty suited for up front battles. And obviously Mornax will protect me from some of the damage. I don't have to avoid THAT do I?"


She snorted. "I said you should engage him head on, not be an idiot. A certain level of sportsmanship just turns into stupidity. You need to make it look good, that doesn't mean you should go into the arena in your underwear. Although speaking of clothes, have you considered replacing that armor? You're coming up on C-rank, and wearing plate mail the same rank as you is kind of pointless given your durability."


"I know," I groaned. "Between my slightly higher Impact and Mornax, nothing C-ranked can hurt me. Wearing all this armor once I rank up will be literally pointless. But B-rank plate isn't cheap, and my grandmother had this custom made for me. I GUESS I could ask mom or grandma to get me something new commissioned, but that feels…pathetic."


Getting help from my family to win the WCP was both inevitable and fine. They were going to benefit from that, and we'd always known it was coming. Asking them to field troops was transactional to an extent, even if I was warmed to know they'd do it even if it wasn't. But running to my mommy to ask her to buy me new clothes because I outgrew my current set was so infantile it made me cringe.


It wasn't even a matter of resentment or any of my old issues, it just would have violated every bit of self respect I had to fail to do something as basic as DRESS myself given everything I'd accomplished.


To my surprise, rather than tell me I was being stupid and prideful, Ellie nodded approvingly. "I get that." I cocked my head in surprised confusion and she just laughed, rolling her eyes. "Wanting to earn your armor with your own two hands is hardly something I'm going to insult you over. I respect the drive. But it won't be easy, even here. Sure, you have your scrolls to rely on, but with the conclave in town you're hardly the only one, and there are bound to be higher ranked candidates with things to offer."


I sighed, slumping back into my seat. "I know. I considered looking into some kind of auction while I was here. I'd dismissed it because I didn't have time with the meetings and all, but since my recruitment efforts will be stalled until the fight…" I glanced at Crell. "Do you know if there's an auction going on around here where I could get a suit of armor? Or at least materials for one. I'd want to do it before the fight, so it would need to be today or tomorrow."


Callie sat up from where she'd been reclining leisurely, her eyes alight like a shark smelling blood in the water. "An Auction?" She asked with interest. "Full of magic items and treasure and-"


"Yes, you loot goblin," I told her with a laugh. "And you'll obviously be coming with me. I'll pass you some scrolls to use as currency so you can get some gear for yourself. Though I hope you don't replace the costume, I really like this one."


She popped to her feet, twirling gracefully, skirt spinning as she swept into a delicate curtsy. "As my lord husband wishes." Her solemn graceful performance is ruined moments later as she bursts into giggles though. My wife is anything but deferential, even if she DOES take my opinions into consideration. I stood, pulling her against me, and she laughed even more deeply as she leaned up for a kiss.


The two of us stood like that, swaying a bit to the low music on in the background of the tavern. They had an acoustic guitarist up on stage, and for a moment it was nice to just ignore the world and dance together.


"Boo!" Ellie called in annoyance. "Come on! Have some respect for the rest of us! The world isn't your fairytale. Act like normal human beings who aren't disgustingly in love."


Callie's giggle came back in force as she pulled away. And she flopped back into her chair with a laugh. "Sorry, sorry. Anyway, the cloak stays, though I might get a new dress if there's something sturdier. I'm sticking with this theme though. Not least of which because a suit of armor would be a nightmare to get on over my wings. So what do you say Crell? You know an auction we could visit?"


His sigh was more than answer enough, but he went on to list a series of possible auctions nearby as I retook my seat. I had to admit, I was excited as hell. It was finally time to get myself some new armor, and I had several ideas of how to pay for it.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We were able to find an auction pretty easily. I wasn't surprised, really, the city was one of only ten on this side of the planet where B-rankers could congregate, and B-rankers were hardly the only ones around. The population of Veltheim was pretty sizable from what I could tell. Several auctions were held regularly, and with the conclave in town, some of the bigger ones had even been moved up.

One of the biggest was what I had been informed was called the Empty Auction. That was where we were right now. "Alright, everyone have your masks?" I reached up to adjust mine, which was somehow sitting perfectly stably on TOP of my normal wooden mask. It was a tiny thing, a simple domino mask made of incredibly thin glass, but somehow, once applied, everything about me just became…immaterial.

Not in the sense that I was less solid, but in the sense that I was completely unimportant in every respect. It was like I had been placed under stealth, but instead of making me invisible, it just kind of disconnected every bit of my being from the consequences of Perception. People could see me, but their brains didn't make a connection between what they saw and anything else. It was like everyone was face blind, but for every sense. It was deeply unsettling to experience, especially once my friends applied theirs, but we were able to key the masks for exclusions, so the rest of us were recognizable once we got past the initial fine tuning.

Benny snorted at me. "Yes, DAD," he said with exaggerated belligerence. "We're not idiots. Now stop stalling so we can go see what kind of crazy shit we're going to buy."

"Don't know how you plan to PAY for said crazy shit," I told him with a laugh. "My budget is one hundred percent dedicated to upgrading my gear. Every ounce of cash I've got is going toward that. Also some cash I don't got. Speaking of which, I have an item to put up for bid. Where do I submit that?" I glanced at Crell, who was scanning the crowd worriedly. My advisor didn't enjoy the blindness that currently afflicted us all. Ironically, for a mythical user of Doubt, he didn't deal well with the sensation himself.

"Hm?" he asked absently. "Oh, sorry. There's a counter over there. What exactly are you putting up for bid?"
Reaching into my ring, I withdrew a sphere. More accurately, a ball of black glass inside which burned a fist sized blue black flame. Heretic fire. Callie turned to stare into it, blinking. "That's…how did you do that? It's not really supposed to stick around like that. It's flame and flame goes out after a while."

"Agares," I said with a grin. "This was…tricky. Not just condensing and shaping the liquid stone into black glass, but you're right, the natural state of the heretic fire is to burn off. I have unnoticeable veins of Void corruption I pulled from your Path laced through it. The heretic fire is burning them off and feeding on them at the same time. It won't last forever, but I tamped down on the burn enough to get a few days out of it."

This thing was technically useless, but in a very real sense it was also priceless. With the Void infiltrating the planet, having access to a heretic flame would be invaluable. And it COULD burn Void taint, as evidenced by the output. If you found and introduced more you could theoretically farm the stuff. It wasn't worth the time investment to someone like me who could just spark it up, but since this stuff could cleanse corrupted areas, people, or objects, to anyone else it would invaluable.

We stopped in front of the window protecting the auction counter from the rest of the hall. The man behind it looked…like nothing. I could see him plain as day, but none of the features I was looking at would stick in my head. Like I'd said. Deeply unsettling.

I set the sphere down on the counter. "Heretic fire," I told him directly. "Anti-void and Void cleansing properties. Highly effective. Starting bid is a single B-ranked chit, but I'm also willing to accept trade for a B-ranked suit of plate, as long as it comes with some adjustments."
He nodded, picking it up and studying it. "Interesting."

"You need to appraise it or something?" I asked him mildly. "And is there a commission fee?" I assumed there was, I just wanted to hurry this up.

"No and yes, respectively," he responded lazily. "We do offer appraisal services, but they cost extra. It is perfectly acceptable to post unappraised goods. Caveat Emptor is in effect, however. Do keep in mind that it is the responsibility of the purchaser to ensure the quality of their goods. Also, should we find out you've lied in your description to drive up the price, your anonymity will be forfeit, and we will turn over details of your location to the buyer."

I snorted. That was classic WCP. Put all the liability on the parties involved and act as an impartial middleman, with just a hint of threat to prevent people from taking advantage. I nodded, then accepted a small tag I would use to claim the proceeds.

Once that was done, we headed into the actual auction hall, claiming a seat near the back. To my surprise, there were some familiar faces, so I squeezed in next to my cousin Alys. Tapping her shoulder, I activated the sharing function of my mask, allowing it to sync to hers and communicate the way my friends had. It said something about Alys that she didn't even hesitate before accepting, and when she saw me, her face lit up. "Sh-"

I covered her mouth quickly. "Whoa there, no names couz'. You can see me now but most people can't. Have to maintain anonymity to the outsiders. What are you doing here?"

She jerked her thumb at the unrecognizable figure behind her, who I could only assume was her bodyguard and boyfriend, Cryton. "My…someone is looking for a weapon. Something big and heavy. How about you?"

"Armor," I shrugged. "I've almost outgrown my current set. Plus, I heard someone is auctioning a sphere of some kind of anti void fire." I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "With the invasion coming up, something like that could be invaluable. I don't think we should spread it around TOO much, but if you have any friends here let them in on it. Anyone who gets it will be able to help us out a lot and it doesn't matter who it is as long as they're on our side right?"

Callie snorted in amusement, giving me a judgemental look. I shot her the mental equivalent of a shrug. Nothing wrong with word of mouth advertising, it wasn't like I was lying, the heretic fire WAS ant Void. I told her as much mentally and she sent back a grudging acceptance that came with lots of mental judgement, but I ignored her.

Alys, of course, all but exploded in joy. Alys was the type of person to make friends with everyone. She had all of Bethy's bubbly personality without any of her edge, and her sheer effervescence made her almost impossible to dislike.

Within five minutes, everyone in the hall knew about the orb, and what it did, and how useful it was, and there was a low murmur of excitement about possibly acquiring it. I was beaming behind my mask, and I made a mental note to put Alys in some sort of PR position in our faction if she joined up. You couldn't buy advertising talent like that.

Soon enough, everyone quieted down as a man took the stage. As with everyone else, I had no idea who he was…but maybe that didn't need to continue. Reaching for my staff without withdrawing it from my soul, I triggered my special ability to bump my skills up a rank and then Dantalion. I winced slightly at the influx of information when it all spilled into my head, but I ignored it, splitting off a parallel to deal with the buildup while I waited to see if that would yield results.

The masks prevented me from seeing anything specific to start, but I was wondering if I could grind through their defensive power. They weren't particularly high ranked. Fielding so many of them meant that it wasn't viable to use B-ranked masks, they were sticking with a simple C-rank design they could mass produce. With the boost from the staff, I was PRETTY sure I could get through eventually. I ignored the parallel while I focused on the auctioneer.

"Welcome guests!" He boomed gregariously. "To the Empty Auction. Here, the outside world is like a mirage, and all that matters are the contents of this stage. By the time you leave, it too will return to emptiness."

My eyes narrowed at that. That was…flowery. Extremely flowery. But more than that, it was the exact kind of nihilistic claptrap that the Void LOVED. I glanced at Callie, who looked similarly uneasy, but we didn't do anything. Being creepy didn't make you a Void infiltrator. Plenty of Ascendants were regular run of the mill creeps, and the darkness and abyssal crowd was dramatic and scary, a combination that Ascendants of all stripes enjoyed. Callie's own family was famous for that imagery back on Callus, despite have no Void ties at all.

I shook it off. I needed to focus. If the Void wanted to pull some shit it wouldn't be now, with a room full of dangerous high ranking threats. Probably. Dantalion might pick something up if I left it running. I tuned back into the auctioneer.

"Now, originally we were planning to have our opening item be a particularly powerful set of magic bracers that grant a massive boost to Might," he said jovially. "But based on the rumblings in the room and some of the whispers that made it to our ears, we've made the decision to move up a new offering." He reached down for the silk cloth draped over the plinth next to him, whipping it off to reveal…my orb.

"Some of you may have heard we recently gained access to this fascinating trinket," the B-rank auctioneer beamed. "This is an orb of "heretic fire". A unique anti Void substance that hasn't been seen in realspace in over five hundred thousand years. It took us quite a bit of effort to dig up the information on this stuff in our data banks. Given the whispers floating around the heirworld of Void infiltrators, I think everyone here can understand the true value of this substance. In fact, we have a live demonstration of exactly what it can do for you here tonight!"

I frowned, not sure what he meant…and then I noticed. Or rather, I started noticing, between one breath and the next. One of the members of the faceless sea of unrecognizable figures became suddenly completely noticeable. He didn't seem to get it at first, but when he saw all the eyes on him, his own flew open in panic.

He shot to his feet, looking around angrily, then snarled up at the B-ranker. "SILENTIUM REVIVERE!" He bellowed, and his eyes flashed blue as he threw back his head, black smoke erupting from his mouth.
But the auctioneer had been waiting for this. He reached down, casually picked up the orb, and chucked it overhand at the C-rank Void agent. It streaked through the air, exploding into a pillar of blue black fire as it lit up the infiltrator, who had already been fully consumed by the fire.

Before the screams could even fade, the man snapped, and the fire just sort of…rewound. It recondensed into the orb, retracing its path to land smoothly in his hand, the interior roaring with a much denser flame. "Now," he said cheerfully. Opening bid as a single B-rank chit, with B-rank intervals. But preference is for a B-rank suit of armor and a complimentary adjustment. Bidding starts…now!" And the whole room exploded with shouts. In his spot on the stage, waiting for the bids to roll in, the auctioneer winked at me. Perhaps I might be able to make something even more interesting out of this visit. But for now, I just had to sit back and rake in the money.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

It was shocking to me that no one seemed at all surprised by the colossal show of power that the auctioneer had just unleashed. They seemed IMPRESSED, don't get me wrong, or at least the people who I could perceive did? I think. Remembering expressions was giving me issues just then, but Callie and the others were definitely impressed, and so was I. But it didn't seem to cause a stir.


Apparently the Void infiltrators had assumed that their tricks would work just as well here as they did in the lower zones, and they had GRAVELY miscalculated. Whoever ran the Empty Auction was NOT associated with the Void, and they didn't think much of people who were.


"Two B-rank chits!" Bethy shouted excitedly. "Guys, that thing is so cool! I totally want one!"


I sighed and rubbed my temples, hissing at her. "Bethy, I MADE that, I can just give you one. Don't BID on it, you might win and we'd miss out on a chance to get a demonstration of my work into the hands of people who might buy more in the future."


She giggled. "Oh, my bad. It's just super cool looking. You better made me one of those later though. But not a ball, that's dumb. You should make me a pair of heels with that cool fire in them, then when we fight Void baddies I can just be like…bam, heel to the face, nerd!" She stopped addressing me directly, seemingly lost in her shoe design fantasy, but I did file away the concept for later, it sounded pretty cool. At least she hadn't had time to do more than a reflexive initial bid.


Still, that drove the price way up for my orb, and I was thrilled with the fervor that seemed to drive all the interested parties after the demonstration. "Three B-rank chits," bellowed one person. "Five!" shouted another. I couldn't make out who any of them were, but it was clear they were all determined to win the bid.


Sadly, by this point things were out of my hands. All I could do was sit back and watch as they drove the price higher and higher. Sadly, while this was definitely interesting and useful, it was still a D-rank item, and a relatively niche one at that. This was a B-rank auction attended by some of the richest people in the younger generation of the WCP, and many of them had much more important things to buy than experimental Void fire orbs.


Finally, the bidding wound down, and I managed to sell the orb for a whopping two hundred seventy five B-ranked chits. Sadly, I didn't get any armor offers. That wasn't completely unexpected. The price had spiked, but a full set of plate mail would have cost much more than the orb had gone for. I'd been hoping someone would trade out of desperation, but it was looking like I was going to be stuck paying retail.


That was unfortunate, but also not the worst thing in the world. I could save a lot of money if I just bought the materials for scrolls and then paid a smith to make the suit of armor for me custom. Material cost was the big money sink in cases like this, so I just had to figure out what kind of metal I wanted to use. The only real downside was that I almost definitely wouldn't have the suit before the duel.


"Well," said the auctioneer with a clap of his hands. "That was certainly a bracing start to an excellent evening. Now, with our surprise entry out of the way, let's return to our regularly scheduled programme. Our first item for auction, the Horn of Annuvin. A summoning object that creates undead soldiers bound to the will of the user."


He gestured grandly and the podium where the orb had been burst into flames, the fire dying down nearly instantly to reveal a massive black horn.


To my surprise, my Dantalion scan was able to easily sweep over it, presumably because it was the only non shielded item in the room. The masks disguised everyone in here, and I was working on cracking them, but the actual objects for sale apparently weren't covered. I assumed this was intentional, the ability to use information skills adding a layer of transparency to the proceedings, but it meant I was able to learn a bit about the item, and it was a fascinating bit of study.


Dantalion was at C-rank still, and the item in question was as well. I was able to learn a few interesting enchantments as well as more deeply understand the horn. The stat distribution was interesting. Creation, of course, and Fantasy, but there was also a strangely large amount of Vitality involved in the construction. I was so wrapped up in the study that I missed the actual auction, and before I could really parse everything, it was gone.


The next few objects were fascinating. An umbrella that shed energy like rain, a knife that could only cut flesh and passed through everything else, and then a paired blade that did the opposite. A club that could change its weight mid swing, a shield that magnetically attracted long range attacks, a pair of boots that could walk on moonlight and leave no trace on the ground.


I learned a lot about the local enchantment styles, the distribution of all those stats and how everything worked was fascinating, and I made a mental note to pass this on to Benny somehow.


Eventually though, a new item was posted, one that caught my attention immediately. "Now, for the last item on tonight's docket, we have a special offering." He gestured again, and the podium burned, when the flames faded, there was a pair of what looked like wristbands. Except there were no hinges, only a pair of very small keyholes, and a thin, nearly filament sized chain connected them together.


"These are the shackles of desire," he announced grandly. "Originally used to bind a Greater Djinn whose name is lost to time. Steeped in the powerful wish granting energy of a being whose very nature was part of the inspiration for the Wishmaster's signature skill. An A-rank item of power with endless uses. The starting bid is an A-rank chit, or an item of equivalent value. Let the bidding…begin!"


My eyes were glued to the shackles. They were small. Relatively useless to most, but not to me. They were A-rank, but not big enough to use in a suit of armor, if I could even WEAR one of those. Regardless, I didn't have the money to commission an A-rank suit…but if I melted those down and alloyed them with some powerful B-rank materials I could presumably make something pretty special, especially if I was willing to spend a few of Nat's scrolls to fine tune the metals I used.


"Two A-rank chits!" I called, as I hit my feet. I had a bit over two and a half right now after the sale, but I could tell that wasn't enough. I started to panic slightly. Someone raised the bid to three, and I started adding in scrolls. My scrolls, despite being powerful, however, were D-rank.


"Ten A-rank chits," came a clear voice to my right. My eyes widened and I turned to see Bethy, a solemn expression on her usually cheerful face, staring up at the stage. She saw me looked and grinned at me. "What? I can tell you really want this. You're my bestie, I gotta help out where I can!" She winked at me, but her smile wilted slightly, her tone taking on a warning cast. "But I only have fifteen A-rank chits on me. Daddy doesn't give me that much pocket money, and most of it goes to my clothes budget."


I grinned at her in excitement. "Bethy, if you win this, I will make you as many pairs of those heels as you want. Hell, I'll build you a damn shoe palace!"


She squealed with excitement. "Oh that sounds so cool! I run out of places to put them all, honestly. I've got entire closets full of spatial rings stuffed with shoes, but they just look so lame on display like that."


I suppressed a horrified shudder and thanked the gods that my wife was just obsessed with treasure in general and didn't have an expensive shoe habit.


Bethy continued her bidding war, eleven, then twelve. She finally managed to bully the last bidder out of the running at thirteen. That represented over a thousand B-rank chits at a B-rank auction where most of the interested parties were candidates who hadn't even reached C-rank yet. I let out a sigh of relief as she was declared the winner, and Callie threw herself over my lap to give Bethy a big hug as she expressed her gratitude.


It said something about how wrapped up in all this I'd been that I missed the white knuckled grip Callie had on my arm. I knew how worried she was in general, but I hadn't realized how focused she was on upgrading my armor. I could feel the relief and gratitude through the bond, and I finally understood just how scared she'd been for me. Not just about this duel, but the whole invasion was one big nightmare for her.


As she pulled away from Bethy, I put my arms around her and gave her a right squeeze, sending my love and reassurance through the bond. My heart ached for her. This Void stuff was scary. Knowledge and feelings she didn't understand, enemies who would stop at nothing to see her dead, a connection to a god she'd never heard of. And now to see that same nightmare turn its eyes on the planet where nearly all her closest friends and family were.


I wished I could have gotten her something fun to mess around with, but none of the items had really been her kind of thing, and I couldn't justify spending so much on generic loot. Still, I was as excited as she was about the shackles, and I couldn't wait to see what kind of supplementary mats I could get for the suit.


We all got up and headed out of the auction, back to the front counter where I turned in my tag to collect my auction profits. Two hundred seventy five B-rank chits. It should be enough to pay off some of my material needs and commission my armor as long as I provided the mats.


I hoped. I was going to need a particularly talented smith, or an A-ranker, in order to handle those shackles. To my surprise, when I submitted the tag, they didn't just give me back the chits, they also handed me a matte black card with an empty golden circle on it. There didn't appear to be any other writing on the thing, but I was curious what secrets it held.


After that, Bethy picked up the shackles and passed them over, and we all headed back to the boarding house. As we climbed into the car, I mentally indexed the information I'd gained from Dantalion. Inside my library, books began to fill. Not just with information on enchantments, but some on the functions and mechanisms of those glass masks. I had several ideas for how to improve Murmur using the information I'd gathered there.


As we drove, we chatted with Bethy, my sister, Ellie, and the others, and I couldn't help the warm glow of contentment in my belly. Tonight had been a big win, but more importantly, it had been something we could all do together. It reminded me of what that auction back on Callus could have been, just without Mordaunt and her crew messing things up for us. In some ways, knowing I had a fight tomorrow helped make it even easier. Until I won there was no pressure on politics or recruitment. All I needed to do was step into the arena. There was something to be said for enjoying the simple things. Maybe Abel had been a bad influence on me.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

As I suspected, Crell had zero leads on how to find an A-rank blacksmith here. Even a particularly talented B-rank seemed out of the question at the moment, sadly. So I just headed to bed after the exciting evening, albeit with the caveat of having spent several hours working on plans for Bethy's shoe palace, which she redesigned at least six times and was STILL adding things to when I went to sleep.


Still, I slept like a baby, despite my excitement, and rose to greet the day with gusto (after stocking up on scrolls). I leapt out of bed, full of moxie and gusto and whatever other words old people use to describe being super pumped, and then…nothing.


"Shane, what the fuck are you doing?" My grumpy wife asked me, her voice muffled by the pillow her head was stuck under. Only one of her blue black eyes was visible, and it was narrowed in annoyance. "It's…" she flicked a hand, checking her scan ring. "It's four in the morning. Why are you awake? Why am I awake? Why does four in the morning even EXIST? Do we really need two of these?"


I coughed in embarrassment. "Um…sorry hon. I was just excited. My fight is today. But much later today. I guess I slept pretty lightly. Go back to bed. I'll go…work out or something."


My hands were near shaking with pent up energy. I felt…charged. Maybe because for the first time since getting here, I felt like I was taking my destiny into my own two hands. All the faction stuff was great, but there was something about punching your will into reality fist over fist that just made it more visceral.


She stared at me for a moment then snorted, blowing hair from her face as she sat up. "It's so weird how you can have this much experience with our crazy lives and still be so dumb and sweet," despite the harsh words, her smile was soft and affectionate. "I hope you never lose this part of you. The stupid punchy moron who followed me into an underground fight club on our first date complaining about how scary my bike was."


"Ok, first of all, our first date was me cooking you dinner," I told her firmly. "And second of all I did NOT say your bike was scary. I said your DRIVING was scary. And I stand by that."


She hummed with indecision. "Hmmm, nope. Sorry babe. That was our first date. I didn't know it yet myself, but I'd already been won over by what a big dumb puppy you were. You were so cute when we first met, all star struck and flustered. And don't try to claim you weren't need I remind you of your collection of Nightstrike novelty mugs?"


"See, this makes me not want to tell you things," I said accusingly, pointing at her archly. "You're never going to let me forget the mugs."


Leaning over on her palm, she watched me happily. "Not even for a second. Love you."


"I love you too," I laughed as I turned to throw on some clothes. Not my armor, just a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. It felt weird dressing in cloth. "Now you coming downstairs while I cook breakfast? Seems like you've officially crossed the event horizon for going back to bed. I know you well enough to know that once you can form coherent words you're up for good."


She snorted. "Your fault, monster. You will carry me downstairs and make me crepes. With mixed berries." She waved her hand grandly as she announced my punishment, and it was hard not to laugh at how cute she was when she was being bossy. I managed though, I didn't want to ruin her bit.


"As my lady wishes," I said in an exaggerated baritone. "You chariot awai-" I was cut off by an angry pounding on the wall.


"If you two assholes don't go back to sleep or go downstairs I will fucking STAB you!" Bellowed Benny from the next room over. "It's FOUR in the morning Shane!" I winced, and Callie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle as I swept over and picked her up.


She was wearing a set of big fluffy pajamas covered in… I frowned at them. "Are those phoenixes? Wait, are those ARCHIE? Where did you even get those?" I triggered Murmur before speaking, just to cover the sound as I carried her out of the room, but I still ended up keeping my voice low out of habit.


Blushing, she cleared her throat. "I had Bethy make them. I thought it would be cute. Since Archie is your companion or whatever." She gestured to her back. "Plus I needed a custom pair to let the wings out. These things are gorgeous, but they are a PAIN to sleep with."


I let her feel through the bond how adorable I thought that was, but I didn't say it. One of the benefits of the bond is that we can be honest deep down without having to say embarrassing stuff out loud. We reached the kitchen and I dropped her on a stool as I fired up the stove, then started pulling ingredients from my ring for crepes.


"So, I was thinking we could spar after breakfast," I told her as I mixed the batter. "Nothing insane, obviously, just some light working out to keep me sharp, then maybe have Jessie juice me up to clear out any soreness or exhaustion. Want to be in top form for my fight."


She smirked at me. "You sure? We haven't really sparred since I got my trait. You might not be able to handle me."


"Are you sure you're all the way awake?" I asked her with concern. "Because clearly you're dreaming. You're pretty tough now, but those flames work best on Void creatures and infiltrators, and I'm neither." She arched a brow at me in challenge, and I grinned back. "Oh that's it, better eat fast because we have a date with the sparring ring. I'm going to make you eat your words. Which to be fair shouldn't be hard, since you consume anything I put near your mouth in the morning." She just flipped me off, rolling her eyes as she tried to quell a smile.


I left her to go get ready to fight while I cleaned up the food, and then headed out to the training yard in the center of the boarding house, a spatially expanded courtyard built into the center. When I arrived though, I realized that we weren't alone. Callie had made a pit stop to pick up one of my B-rankers. At my pulse of confusion, she shrugged. "I was thinking about it, and I feel like you can do better to prepare than working with me. We've trained together a lot, and I'm strong, but I'm no duellist."


That was ironic, considering the origin of our bond, but she wasn't wrong. "You sure you're free to train with us little people, Alanna?" I asked the sword mistress. "I'm sure you have better things to do."


I didn't know Alanna very well, honestly. She and Crell were semi-close, and she'd been one of Skartaris's ministers in the dungeon. She'd hit B-rank immediately after leaving, and was one of the few B-rankers I had that had achieved a Mythical skill, and a weapon skill no less.


She was surprisingly chill for such a powerful and intense person. She shrugged. "You're the boss. I haven't been doing too much since we got here. Crell has his sneaky games and they're useful right now, but my skillset is more hack and slash than wine and dine. If I can help, I'm happy to play trainer for the day."


Nodding, I summoned my staff. "Alright, well, if you both think this is a good training method, I'm in. The two most likely candidates for my battle are sword users. Impart to me your wisdom, oh maker of glorious battle."


Snorting, Alanna drew her sword. It was…jarring. Not because of the blade itself, but because the motion was so smooth, so practiced, that I literally didn't parse that it was happening. It wasn't a speed thing, more that her body flowed through the action so seamlessly that I couldn't pick out where each individual movement started.


"So, sword duels are both more and less complex than most people think," she said as she started to pace a circle around me. My hands tightened on my staff, preparing to react. "There are an infinite number of styles, variations, and techniques that can be performed with a blade. But they can all be broken down into two subcategories. Commanders and conductors."


"Commanders," she said conversationally as her arm blurred. "Control the space. The sword dominates, conquers all within its reach. Commanders pressure, they bully, they clash head on." Her blade clashed against my staff in a dozen places, forcing me to adjust, and I stumbled back, trying to counter as best as I could.


Suddenly though, the pattern changed. Where she had previously been overwhelming me with a volley of strikes, once I started trying to counter, the sphere of control she'd established turned…softer. "Conductors," she continued. "Make use of negative space. Deflection. The commander conquers, the conductor leads.


"In terms of philosophy, these two things may seem similar on the surface," she cautioned as she switched between them seamlessly. Not just one style either, there was about a dozen different sword arts on display from what I could tell, maybe more, but they all fit into those two categories. "Commanders control their own advance, and conductors control yours."


I scowled, trying to keep up. "This is very interesting," I told her frustratedly. "But I don't see how it helps me here. I can't learn to apply this in the short time I have."


"Of course not," she laughed. "But that's not why I'm showing it to you. Understanding the warp and weft of bladework is a finely tuned skillset. But you can learn to recognize the base elements. Once you know what you're looking for, you can learn to disrupt it. Each of the two main styles can be countered by its opposite. No D-ranker is going to have a particularly large library of styles. They'll be focused on one thing."


"So if I can identify which type they are, I employ the other type to trip them up," I said in understanding.


She nodded, then her arm blurred, and I felt myself be basically brutalized by the flat of her blade, sending me stumbling away to collapse to the ground, wincing in pain. "Of course, that's easier said than done. If you want to be able to do anything, you need at least a basic competence learning to parse and break sword styles. But THAT I can help you learn in a few hours. Probably."


Groaning, I climbed to my feet. My armor wasn't broken, somehow, or even dented, despite her managing to strike me through it. Just to be safe I triggered Mornax, but I somehow doubted it would save me.


I took stock of my staff art, the various styles I had at my disposal, and then considered what she'd done. I triggered Dantalion, because what could help me learn faster or better than that? Then I triggered my waltz and exploded toward her, deciding to take the initiative to draw out her sword arts ore thoroughly.


That was a mistake. I was on the ground within seconds, and she nodded with interest. "Not a bad plan. Try it again. We don't stop until you manage to break one style of each type." I groaned again as I climbed to my feet, glaring at her despite not really being that upset. She just chuckled. "You know, I'm glad you asked me to help with this," she told my wife. "Most fun I've had in ages." Why were all high ranking Ascendants sadists?

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sometimes a blur of pain, sometimes of tension. Alanna was a brutal taskmaster, but an effective one. I learned a LOT about countering swordmasters. I wouldn't say I was in any way prepared to become one myself, but when someone with a Mythical Skill dedicates a day to teaching you the basics, you pick them up pretty quick. Finally though, I was escorted to the arena where I was going to face my opponent.


It had been a long time since I'd been in an arena like this. The last one I remembered was the tournament back on Callus before our first departure. Despite all I'd been through, and how far I'd come, there was something…disquieting about that wait before I stepped out to face my enemy.


Above me, I could hear the roar of the audience, the pounding of feet on stands as they cheered and bayed for blood. Whether it be mine or my foe, I doubted most of them cared. It should have been terrifying, or disgusting, but it felt…freeing. No one here cared about me. No one had expectations beyond what they would have for any combatant. I would win. Or I would lose. Wyndham, god descendant, none of it mattered. As Abel had once told me, all blood looks the same when it's splashed on hot sand.


And the sand WAS hot. I could feel the heat sizzling up from below as I stepped out into the arena. They called my name, and I emerged into a sea of bone white powder. Hell, maybe it WAS bone. I could check, but I didn't really care to know.


"Ladies and gentlemen!" Boomed a voice from all around me. "Today, we have a special treat. A powerful Ascendant of the Wyndham family. Son of Elijah Wyndham, the Wish Devil, and Sasha Anders, the Star Queen. Great-grandson of Black Sorrow herself, and defier of the Void. A warrior of skill and renown of such magnitude that he earned the fealty of the Vampire's youngest daughter. Shane Wyndham, but they call him SOLOMON!"


In normal circumstances, I'd have tried look imposing, or dignified, or something politically savvy. But down here, in the hear and with the glaring light of the red sky reflecting up from the white sand around me, I had no need or use for words. I knew what these people wanted. I raised one fist above my head, and let out a primal bellow of bloodlust, infused with the demonic voice of Mephistopheles.


My roar echoed off the stands and the walls behind them, overtaking the baying howls of the crowd, and there was silence as every single watched froze under the sheer weight of my wordless declaration. One single beat of silence, before they howls and cheers redoubled, rising like an erupting volcano as they burst forth to roll over the arena, shaking the sand down to the individual grains.


"And in the other corner, an expression that makes no godsdamned sense because these arenas are all ROUND, you know him, you love him. Cyrus the RED! Cyrus is, of course hometown hero, a personal chosen representing the Lord of the Hall of Steel Himself, and a frequent combatant in these arenas in the D-tier bracket. Cyrus is, of course, undefeated at his own rank, and we've been informed that today is a very special day for him. You see, if Cyrus wins this fight, Lord Fade has agreed to compromise on the rank limits necessary to enter the Hall of Steel. For the first time in living memory, a D-ranker will be admitted to the Heartless Hundred. Every child's dream is within Cyrus's grasp, so you can bet he'll fight to the bitter end for this victory. Good look Lord Wyndham, you're going to need it."


I glared around me, tapping into Mephistopheles as my voice boomed out. "If I find out that you're trying to boost my opponent's morale because you've placed a bet on this fight, I'm going to find you and kick your ass."


There was an awkward pause, then the voice cleared its throat. "In other news, all proceeds from tonights victory among the staff will be donated to the Aendarl Aren's widows and orphans fund. Let the fight begin, or whatever, I don't know," he petered off toward the end muttering under his breath as I smirked at the direction change.


Of course, I was already crossing the hot sand, heading for the center as a small man with dark hair and electric blue eyes strode to meet me.


Cyrus was surprisingly compact. I expected a big hulking brute, but the man was every bit the duellist I'd been warned about. Despite that, he wore a heavy dark red plate that glimmered like freshly spilled blood. We stopped about fifteen feet apart. "I'm guessing you really are going to go all out for this" I asked him casually.


He nodded, his expression grave. "I am. Are you prepared?"


My staff smacked into my palms, called from within my soul. I triggered Glory, and a boxy razor sharp blade extended from the end as my body filled with power. Behind me, my wings spread out in a display of force and ferocity as my Waltz roared to life in my veins, calling out to begin the dance.


"Like the man said," I drawled. "Let the fight begin." I blurred, vanishing in an explosion of black flame, appearing behind him. To my shock, his hands clamped down above his head, rising to meet a tide of blood that flowed over his armor, condensing into a colossal sword that intercepted my blow as I aimed it at his lower spine.


My black flame spear ate into the blood, but more of the red liquid poured down his blade to reinforce the damage, effectively neutralizing the attack.


He spun on his heel, the blade reforming to change attack angles, perfectly sliding into my blind spot…only to be deflected by the butt of my staff as I anticipated the maneuver and moved to counter his rhythm. Commander. His style was that of a Commander to use Alanna's terminology.


Overwhelming force, brought to bear on the world around him as he attempted to conquer the space around him and force me to meet him on his own terms.


His sword flashed as he pressed the attack. Literally, it condensed into some kind of gemstone state, the weight dragging it down as the razor's edge split the air…and then nothing else, as I drove forward at his back with my spear. Double Trouble had distracted him just long enough to commit to a blow. I grinned widely as I whirled my spear toward his spine again. I was going for disabling without actual death. Jessie could heal any long term damage.


I was so confident in the attack that I almost missed it when his red armor shifted again, spikes of red metal emerging from his back. My Danger Sense had been screaming non stop, so I was forewarned, and stepped back fluidly to dodge the attack. But Cyrus was better than I'd given him credit for.


Whether he knew I could sense danger or it was just dumb luck, he'd pushed back at me with two attacks. As I'd dodged the spike barrage, his sword had dropped, and then dissolved into liquid. When I moved to avoid the spikes, the whip of blood snapped taught, tripping me. Of the dozen spikes, eleven of them withdrew, the last one extending twice as far, and then whipped out to spear into my gut.


I screamed as my lower abdomen was drowned in molten fire, my staff snapping down towards the whip around my ankle, severing the tendril. As I pulled away though, I felt a tearing sensation as the red spike he'd used to punch through my armor shifted inside me, sprouting hooks and barbs.


The jagged edges caught on my abdominal muscles and what felt like something much more vital and TORE as I yanked myself off it, stumbling away with a gurgled scream. My staff dismissed, my hands shot down to my stomach. I triggered Zagan and Double Trouble again, and was treated to a front row seat of Cyrus whirling in an impossibly tight rotation as his blade reformed, whipping it through the neck of the illusion so fast that I think it took him a second to realize he hadn't just beheaded me.


Stumbling away, I flooded my abdomen with green flame, sighing with relief. The purification wiped away all the poison from the damaged organs, and the life force helped staunch the internal bleeding. I was not in good shape, but it was better than nothing.


That had been an impossible attack. The speed of it. Not just the blood but the movement. He was moving too quickly for me to match up to. I'd assumed he might be faster, but this was beyond a bit of Might difference. It took me a second to figure it out and then I cursed. Blood. Not just the stuff on his armor. Looking close, I could see a red haze surrounding him, his skin flushed. I'd thought it was the heat, but paying closer attention he seemed to be in some sort of overclock state, burning his blood to enhance his physical body.


Stumbling to my feet, I stared him down as he turned to look at me. "You're fast, and strong," he said grimly. "And tricky. But that's all it is. Tricks. You're no warrior. No true combatant. Though I'm impressed you're not curled up in a ball weeping on the ground. Your pain tolerance is astonishing."


My mask receded like it did when I ate, and I spat a bloody chunk of something I'd rather not think about onto the sand. "Practice makes perfect," I rasped. "But you're talking like you've already won this? You think it'll be that easy?"


"That blade shredded several of your organs," he said idly. "Your blood is most likely turning septic. It might not kill you, but it'll take some time to purge it all, and until you do, your body isn't going to be in much shape to fight. In fact, the longer we talk, the more unsteady you're becoming."


Which explained the chat. He was stalling. My mask had reformed, so I didn't have to hide my smile as I triggered my staff to boost Zagan to C-rank, flooding my body with healing fire that actually knitted it back together. Zagan was hands down one of my most overpowered forms, the intense specialization allowing it to operate far above its level, but at C-rank it was basically enough to close any wound that wasn't made by an ACTUAL B-ranker, or at least a weapon of that level.


Meanwhile, Cyrus was staring me down, expecting me to be getting weaker and weaker. I triggered Glory again, surging Zagan's vitalizing power into my body while it was still C-rank to both boost my regeneration and flood my body with strength. Cyrus noticed, nodding solemnly. "Well, it seems you've decided to die here. One last exchange then?"


I spun my staff experimentally, the black blade of the spear hissing as it ate away part of the white sand beneath my feet. As I did, I triggered another domain. Limbo. We'd been locked into a single tradeoff now, and that meant very limited futures. I kept up the spin, the blade of my spear cutting through potential outcomes one by one, narrowing the exchange down to a single possibility. With an explosion of black fire, I moved, appearing in front of Cyrus, my spear flickering out.


He'd been waiting, his blade splitting into five different spearing attacks aimed at my vitals. But I'd seen that. I turned my body. Some of the blades passed me by, some sliced into non essential body parts and my spear slipped into his gut, narrowly missing any vital organs as the edge clipped his spine, severing the nerves that held his body up.


Letting the blade fade, I allowed Glory to lapse as my still running C-ranked Zagan form got to work patching up my injuries. Cyrus stared down at the staff lodged in his gut, the only thing holding him up, and I didn't bother saying anything. I levered the staff to the side, sending his limp form skidding across the sand, twitching and unable to move but still alive and fixable, and raised my weapon in the air. The screams of the crowd were all the last word I needed to get in.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The first person to reach me as I left the arena was, to my complete lack of surprise, my wife, who hit me like a bulldozer and nearly took me off my feet, her arms clamping down around me so hard my armor groaned. "What the HELL were you DOING!" She bawled into my chest as she tried her hardest to squeeze me to death.


I didn't have any arguments there. I hadn't screwed up, a fight is a fight and that one had been a good one, but this was the most injured I'd been in front of her in the years we'd been together. Even if it was brief injury and I'd patched it up fast, seeing the person you love most in the world get eviscerated probably sucked about as much as BEING eviscerated, which, spoiler alert, sucked real fucking bad.


So I just held her, letting her press her face into my neck and ground herself in the knowledge that I was ok as she muttered random nonsense about what an idiot I was. I could feel her desperate fear through the bond, and I understood it. The mere thought of watching someone tear into my wife like Cyrus had done to me turned my blood to ice.


Eventually, I just stood up, liting her with me, and folded my wings around us for privacy as I walked us over to a bench to sit down. After about ten minutes, she came up for air, drying the tears she'd been very careful to try to hide before she let herself be seen by the others.


"Well," she said in a rough voice, clearing her throat. "That was certainly dramatic. But we won."


"That you did," came a familiar voice. I turned to find Fade standing politely off to one side. He nodded at me in acknowledgement. "Well fought, little lord. You've got steel in your veins. That was a nasty injury, and healing or not, being able to fight through it shows that you're not an easy man to put down." He grinned humorlessly. "I respect that."


My wife glared at him. "I suppose it must be an important quality for you to test for it so thoroughly. But let me make something clear. Now that we won and you're on our side, if you ever put my husband in a position to be hurt for no reason again, I'm going to drop you into your own shadow and let you plummet through eternal darkness until you starve to death." She gave him a hard, wintery smile. "Respectfully."


"You should've let her fight," Fade commented to me mildly. "She's much scarier than you."


"True," I grinned. "But I didn't want to traumatize the audience. I'm trying to make alliances here, not give everyone here permanent nightmares."


We both laughed, and Callie pouted, despite me feeling through the bond that she was proud that someone like Fade recognized her as a threat. Because I could smell the truth, and he hadn't been being nice or condescending. He'd meant that. And he was right.


"So, you proved yourself," he said with an intense gaze. His steely grey eyes shone like drawn blades, the glint off the iris the next best thing to the edge of a knife. "I suppose that means I'm at your service, little lord. What would you have of me?"


Ellie bulled into the middle of my response. Literally, she physically interjected herself between us, glaring at the warrior distrustfully. "Don't get so familiar with the little lord, captain flatware. He's already got a bodyguard. I guess you'll be more useful than that sneaky blabbermouth, but don't get ideas above your station. The little lord is more than a Wyndham, and if you have bad intentions you'll be praying the Wish Devil gets ahold of your soul before my master can get her hands on it."


Fade looked unconcerned, smiling mildly at her provocation. "Peace, milady, I meant no offense. I offered only my service, in whatever capacity it might be required."


"I appreciate the sentiment, Ellie," I told her firmly. "But I'm the one who decides where he's going to be assigned. Not you. I'm half tempted to partner him with you, but I feel like that would be more punishment for him than for you. Now that we're moving into more official meeting territory, however, I WILL need my B-rankers on hand, at least the ones with the most combat power. Fade, you'll be on bodyguard detail alongside Alanna. Ellie, I know you're on assignment for my mom, so you and Felicity will stick with me too. Four guards doesn't seem too overboard."


My gaze flicked back to Fade. "Now, what can you do about setting up a few interviews? I understand you're a power player here. How many B-rankers can you get on my side."


"Less than you'd like," he shrugged. "Being king of the hill rarely endears me to others. Not to mention your cousins have been making overtures for some time now. I can get use another two or three smaller factions, or at least arrange contact. Several of them are large organizations, though mostly heavier on the rank and file. More C-rankers than B. But the few B-rankers they have are excellent warriors. Quality over quantity."


I nodded. "Set it up. The conclave starts tomorrow, and I want to go into the meeting with my roster as stacked as I can get it."


With more than a thousand people in my entourage, I was already a force to be reckoned with, but at this point in the succession war, some of the higher ranked cousins had been active in this zone since the beginning and had a big headstart. I knew there was at least one or two B-ranked candidates, even if I wasn't sure exactly where they were.


"It shall be done," he said with a solemn nod. "If it wouldn't trouble you, I'd prefer to meet this potential partner as well. I like to take the measure of a warrior before I trust them at my back."


"You will, and we need to get your contract signed," I agreed.


He sent one of his nearby warriors off to deliver messages and we all headed back to the boarding house. To my surprise, Fade looked…hungry. I raised a brow at him, not that he could see it. "Why do you seem so excited?"


"When I met you yesterday," he said contemplatively. "I couldn't see an ounce of the blade about you. Not in your stance, in your bearing, not even in your Path, despite how muddled it seems to be. But now, there's something of the sword about you. It's faint, only a whisper, but someone has sharpened an edge I didn't know was there. Nothing so complete as real training. More like they gave you very detailed instruction on a VERY specific dueling related concept in preparation for your match."


Which was exactly what Alanna had done. She'd essentially mimicked enough beginner combat styles (albeit ones cranked up a notch) so I could understand what I was up against.


He didn't continue talking about it, considering that answer enough I supposed. But I got it. Fade was a sword maniac. He ate slept and BREATHED the blade. Honed steel was his very blood, and seeing what Alanna could do…


Those who advanced beyond their realm, especially at such a high rank, were astonishingly rare. Only her stranding in the dungeon and the suppression therein had pushed her to polish that skill as she had. Most Ascendants wouldn't waste the time when they could just rank up. No wonder he was so excited. I wondered if he'd have been so willing to accept the loss if he hadn't discovered that little fact about me. Or maybe he'd known from the beginning somehow. Maybe this whole thing was an excuse to set up this very fight.


I shook that thought away. Mythologizing my opponents (or allies) was as bad as underestimating them. Not everyone had been planning everything all along.


When we reached the boarding house, we found Alanna practicing in the training yard. Kind of. She was doing some kind of exercise, her blade drawn, poised outward and still as stone, held parallel to the ground. Leaves fell from above, landing on the blade, and she seemed to be trying to cut them on impact without moving.


Her eyes were closed, but they opened when we arrived. "Little lord," she beamed. "Suppose you won? Though not easily. That armor is shredded. Seems like you might need some more instruction."


"I think I'll just buy better armor," I told her dryly. "And cheat more. Duels are much less fun than they seem when you're starting out. If I hadn't had a point to make I'd have turned the whole arena into a lake of burning ash and drowned him in it. I'll avoid fighting by the rules in the future. I don't think it's my thing."


As exciting as the idea had been after so long, I found duels restrictive and annoying. I saw Callie beam at me in approval at that sentiment, and even Fade snorted.


I expected Alanna to correct me, but she just grinned. "Your first real lesson then," she laughed. "You're not a duellist little lord, don't act like one. You proved your competence today, next time prove your wisdom."


"I don't think I have any to prove," I said wryly. "Do you know where I could get some on the cheap? I'm low on cash what with the armor needing to be made."


She laughed, then turned to Fade. "Can I help you, friend? You're doing an awful lot of staring."


"We are to be partners," he said with a smile. "And before then, opponents, assuming you're willing. I'd love to test the edge of such a deadly opponent." He stared at the sword, held perfectly still in midair, split leaves falling around and over it despite the edge never moving even a micron.


She stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Watch closely, little lord," she said with a wolfish grin. "You could learn quite a bit."


The two of them took up their positions across the yard. Not too close, I noticed, not as close as I'd have expected from a melee battle. I realized why quickly afterwards. Both of them had chosen manifestation when they were starting out. Alanna moved faster, her blade manifesting above her like a piercing rainbow, blurring into existence as she struck out at her foe.


Her Path was stronger. Mythical, not Legendary, and it was clear. To my surprise though, Fade didn't seem bothered. He might not have broken through, but he was MUCH higher into B-rank than she was, maybe at the peak, and he had the Chronicle to show for it. His own manifested blade whirled up, deflecting hers with a spark through the ether. He followed up, and so did she, their blades meeting and clashing the air and space disturbed by the clashes.


They moved so fast the blade shadows overlapped, the entire training ground vanishing under waves of ripples and flashing metal. The swords sang as they clashed, the reports blurring together into a high, clear tone of victory and challenge, the hum of the steel singing of power and glory as the two blademasters attacked


Despite not being able to follow the specifics (this was well above my level) I triggered Dantalion and Piece of Mind. Inside my library, a parallel recorded the clash in a tome for me to study later, even as my main mind watched on in wonder.


They fought like that for hours, operating so fast, so seamlessly, that I was half afraid an eyelash in someone's eye would be the difference between life and death.


Callie sidled up next to me, and I put an arm around her shoulder as we watched, awed at the spectacle. "You know," I murmured in her ear. "This was definitely worth it. Gut stab or not." She snorted, but didn't agree. That was fine, I was feeling much better personally. At least for now.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So, we're looking at twenty five hundred total?" I asked Crell as Callie checked my tie. "Twenty five B-rankers, two hundred C-rankers, and twenty three hundred D-rank, give or take. Can we fit them all in the boarding house?"

He shrugged. "Probably not, but we don't need to. The conclave shouldn't last more than a day or two, and the locals have their own locations to use as a base."

"I don't like this," my wife said worriedly. "I trust Alanna and Fade well enough under contract, but we barely know them. You'll be all alone there. I should be going. Or at least take Carmichael with you." She tugged on the lapels on my suit anxiously. "You don't even have armor on at this point."

I caught her hands in mine gently. "I'll be FINE, Cal. But the conclave has been called for today, and only candidates and two guards are allowed. I won't be alone. Nadia, Charlie, Derrick, and Alys are all coming with. Each of them will have their own pair of B-rankers on standby. Given how scary Fade is we should have the edge in quality, and between all of us I'm not worried about my safety."

"I know," she sighed tiredly. "And I know that this meeting is important. You all need to pull together to deal with the Void incursion."

She gave me a fierce hug, then pulled back, grabbing either side of my face, staring up into my eyes even through my mask."If you need my heretic flame, take it," she told me intensely. "Any time, just pull on the bond and I'll give you everything."

I let my mask recede, then leaned down to kiss her softly. "You always do."

"Not the time for this," Fade said dryly. "We have to get going if we're going to meet up with the others before we enter."

I cleared my throat, nodded, and then gave my wife one last squeeze before stepping away. "Wish me luck," I said cheerfully. "Literally, if you feel up to it. Nat should have some spare scrolls around." I shot her a wink, then turned and headed down to the street. Fade and Alanna trailed behind me like menacing shadows. The two of them had fought for hours last night, only stopping to sleep, and even that for much less time than a lesser Ascendant would have needed.

When I woke up this morning, I headed down to check on them after stockpiling my scrolls for the day, the two of them had sort of fallen into sync. They weren't fighting anymore, just sitting around reading the paper and drinking coffee, but there was a strange sense of understanding between them. It reminded me of Callie and I at the beginning, though I didn't know if they had actually achieved a Skill.

Still, I felt better about them guarding me than I would have otherwise, and I was perfectly comfortable sitting in silence as we drove to the meetup location outside the public park where we were supposed to be holding the conclave.

I was the last one there, and when we climbed out, I was greeted by an excited Alys and an eager Derrick. Nadia and Charlie were more sedate, but I could tell they were energized by the intensity of their gaze. Their guards stood behind them, none of them recognizable to me, which wasn't a shock. I hadn't met any of their B-rankers, though Fade gave one of them a nod that told me he was probably local.

"Evening friends," I said with a grin. "Everyone ready for some good old fashioned family fun?"

Alys looked ecstatic. "Oh, definitely! This is going to be so great! We can catch up with all the family members we never see, talk, get some food. I hear cousin Aaron is going to be grilling. Plus Vince isn't here, and he was responsible for five of the last seven stabbings at family related events, so our odds of avoiding an incident are really good!"

Derrick let out a relieved sigh. "Oh thank the gods, I lost a huge chunk of money to him at the last branch poker game, and he kept making these REALLY pointed "jokes" about repossessing one of my kidneys."

"Don't be silly," Nadia said with a reassuring smile. "Vince would never stop at just one."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, enough joking around. I need some details on who IS going to be here. I assume you know better than I do?"

Alys nodded brightly. "Of course! Delia is in charge of this conclave. She's B-ranked, and one of the oldest cousins here. Brandon is helping, he's a C-ranker, but he's really connected. His dad is a branch head, and there have been some…implications that he gets preferential treatment. Personally I don't believe it, because cheating is harshly punished, but he's pretty strong."

"Roland is here," Derrick added. "He's a swordmaster. He's B-ranked too, and he's one of the toughest members of the family. He's kind of my role model. Family legend is he only accepts payment in sword Skills and Might stats. He's a total beast. With him around, no one will be starting trouble at this thing unless they're looking to get ventilated."

Charlie added. "Wesley is here. He's my least favorite cousin. He's a sneaky underhanded bastard who never means what he says. He's got a fondness for poisons, so avoid letting him near your drink."

"Catherine and Sarah are both in attendance," Nadia chimed in. "They're full sisters, and are kind of like brand ambassadors for their branch. They're professional charmers, masters at making people feel special and appreciated, and they can talk anyone into anything. It's been implied that that they accept payment in people skills, and has honed hers to the point that it's the next best thing to mind control. I've been around them and it's not QUITE that extreme, but they are VERY persuasive, so be careful when you speak to them."

"How many people are going to be AT this thing?" I asked in annoyance. "I don't think I can remember them all."

Nadia shrugged. "A hundred, last I checked. Word on the street is some of the branches are benching their weaker candidates. Getting off world is impossible, but the D-rank zone is a lot safer than down here. Way more peak D-rankers there to play babysitter. Plus less Path stuff to mess with."

"Well, glad someone mentioned THAT was an option," I said sarcastically. "But whatever, I wouldn't have bothered. Just as well no one wasted my time. Now how do we FIND everyone?" I pointed into the park, where the majority of the land vanished into a heavily shaded canopy of trees.

It wasn't spatially expanded, I didn't think. Not like that first copse of trees when we'd just arrived. Alys took the lead, gesturing us to follow, and we did, trailing behind our sunniest cousin until we reached a clearing in the center of the forest.

It looked…quaint. It wasn't some big overwhelming glade or majestic expanse of lush greenery, it was just a big empty green meadow full of cheap wooden picnic tables. Off to the sides I saw ugly box shaped metal grills on posts sticking out of the ground, several of them lit with charcoal and merrily burning away, sizzling meat dripping aromatic juices into the banked coals that sent bursts of scented steam up onto the gentle breeze that played with the leaves on the trees.

Honestly the whole scene was kind of idyllic, with the various relaxed looking family members lounging on tables or playing sports. Of course, that was ignoring the menacing forms of the bodyguards sticking to the shadows of the trees, more than two hundred B-rank elites composing a force large enough to conquer a small star system.

Fade grimaced. "We're expected to give you space. You want to go with it or just tell them to fuck off?"

"It'll be seen as weakness if I need my bodyguards right next to me when no one else does," I told him firmly. "Besides, you're B-rankers. Does a few dozen yards really matter that much?" His shrug was answer enough, and I nodded him and Alanna off with the others. Alys, to no one's surprise, dragged us to the nearest group of revelers with a happy squeal. "Adrianna! How are you! Oh my god your hair looks amazing where did you get that dye job?"

The tall, tanned woman with eyes that looked a lot like my own shade of Wyndham green laughed as she swept Alys into a hug. "The same place I got the last one, Aly, you need new material." She was quite a bit bigger than Alys, so my blonde cousin was lifted up into the air as she crushed her into a hug. Alys just laughed happily, squeezing back as Adrianna set her down.

"Well it still looks great," she looked around at the others with Adrianna. "Who are your friends?"

Adrianna laughed. "Wayne, Thomas, Adra, this is Alys. Everybody's favorite. And these are her friends, apparently."

"Shane," I told her solemnly as she glanced at me. "That's Derrick, Charlie, and Nadia."

Her eyes sharpened. "Shane," she said slowly. "Elijah's kid. I've heard a few stories about you. You're bigger than expected. Elijah is a normal sized person last I checked, how are you so damned tall?"

"My mother's side of the family," I shrugged. I was by far the biggest person here. Despite our similar features, my father was easily a half foot shorter than me, and his size was pretty typical for a Wyndham. I hadn't ever really considered it, but my mom was almost six feet, which was pretty damned tall for a woman, so I assumed my height came from her.

The other woman, a redhead named Adra, glared at me. "You've got a lot of guts coming here. Nobody wants you around, you know. We should just take the chance to get rid of you."

Adrianna grimaced. "Forgive her, she doesn't think," she said apologetically. "If she did, she'd know that any attempt to harm you would mean having to fight Roland, something only an idiot or a lunatic would do." She pinned the other woman with a gimlet stare, and the redhead went pale.

"I wasn't being like…serious," Adra muttered sullenly. "I was just talking shit."

"That happens when you have your head up your ass," Derrick said spitefully. "Maybe pry it loose and brush your teeth."

Alys physically interposed herself between them. "Whoa! No need for hostility everybody. We're all family here. I think it's clear from this trial that they want us working together. We've all got bigger fish to fry than some family squabbles. Adra, I know you're from Shane's uncle's branch, but there are more important things than Wyndham politics, ok?"

Adra looked like she did NOT think that was ok, but a glare from Adrianna shut her up fast. The taller woman turned to glance at Alys questioningly. "You say that like you know what's going on? Have you heard something? About three quarters of us are in a communication blackout, and the ones who aren't keep getting stonewalled. Someone up there seems REALLY concerned about information security and compartmentalization right now."

I realized what Alys was doing even as she nodded her cheerful acknowledgement. "That's right," she all but sang. "I know something you don't know. Now aren't you glad we're all being friendly and civil?"

Adrianna stared at her unreadably for a moment or two, then sighed. "You know, you're always so chipper and friendly I forget how sneaky you can be. You want to make a deal, right? An alliance for information?" She looked me over with a long sigh. "You know what? Fine. You provide us with some worthwhile info and I'm open to a temporary truce for the duration of this conclave. From ALL of us," she said firmly as Adra tried to speak up. "So…what do you know?" I was so glad I'd allied with Alys. She really got things done.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The truce was hashed out pretty quickly, and we shared our information without reservation. They all looked unsettled, and I didn't blame them. I wasn't exactly feeling balanced and carefree myself. Being here without any backup bothered me. Not that I didn't like Alys and Derrick and the others, they were family. But I was still getting to know them, and this was clearly not a friendly place for me to be. Having Bethy or Callie or Abel at my back would have made me feel a lot better.


Luckily, the socializing and "family time" wasn't foremost on the agenda. They let us mess around until everyone arrived, and then when we were all accounted for according to the trial, Delia called the meeting to order.


Delia was…intimidating. Short and steely eyed, with platinum blonde hair tied back in a tight, severe braid, eyes hidden behind a pair of sleek but functional glasses. They weren't the same green as mine, not that all Wyndhams had those. Delia's eyes were ice blue, a pale color close to white, and they were uncomfortably intense as they stared across the conclave at the rest of us.


Roland stood behind her, a tall red haired man with a colossal sword hanging over his back. He didn't speak, just kind of loomed behind her looking menacing. He was good at it.


"You have been summoned," she said in a cold, implacable voice. "And you have come. That is good. This is an unusual circumstance, I know, and plenty of you had reservations. Confusion and doubt runs rampant. This was not an oversight. You will notice that our number is small. Many refused the call. Their qualifications have been revoked."


Everyone froze. That…that wasn't supposed to happen. I knew the score, so I understood why they did it, but these trials were voluntary. Not doing them meant no points to free locals, which would hurt your faction, but no one was FORCED to participate.


There were nine other cities in this ring, and nine other meetings presumably taking place, but assuming similar numbers to here, that meant there were now only about a thousand candidates left in the running for the position of Wishmaster. Hell, it meant more than that, because some of the ones who didn't show were probably competitors with higher point values.


"You see my earnestness now," she continued icily. "This is not a game. It is not politics. This is a matter of survival. I personally believe the succession war should be postponed at this juncture, but wiser minds than I have decreed that we shall continue, and continue we must. That said, during this next action, any attempts to curry favor, or remove rivals, or undermine the cohesion of this family will be met with swift and violent reprisals."


Roland stepped forward, his hazel eyes sweeping the crowd. "I am Roland. You know me." It wasn't a question. "Delia's threat will be carried out by me personally, should it require fulfillment. We are not, however, unreasonable. Any who do not wish to participate may leave. As we mentioned, your qualification will be removed, but you will live. Should you decline this generous offer, you are giving your implicit consent to be used by us for the duration of this trial. It will be dangerous. Some of you will die. Those who do not will benefit. Make your choice."


Alys grimaced. "Delia is smarter than this. Choosing Roland to support her was smart, he's very strong, but she shouldn't have had him speak. He's blunt to the point of brutality, and she's already incredibly in your face. She should have picked someone political who could dress it up better than that."


"No," Nadia corrected her. "She doesn't want that. This isn't a matter that will be solved with numbers. We need quality not quantity. Anyone who could be swayed into it with smooth talk wouldn't be the kind of person they want on the team."


That didn't fill me with confidence, but at the same time, it kind of did. Based on what they were saying, this "trial" was some kind of punitive expedition against the Void. Reading between the lines, Delia and Roland belonged to a faction who wanted to proactively eliminate the Void and abandon the succession war. The people in charge were naturally not fans of that idea, given their investment in the ritual, but the Void made someone worried enough to give their faction control of a trial to use us for housecleaning.


The fact that they seemed so resigned told me that they didn't expect this little crusade to actually DO much, but that it was the best they were going to get.


To my surprise, the threatening show wasn't enough. Someone raised a hand lazily. "Hello there, I'm Wesley, nice to meet you all. I'd like more details about exactly what we'll be expected to DO for this trial before I accept your unlimited control, thanks very much. Perhaps you might illuminate us as to your plans?"


It was reasonable, polite, and just the right amount of sarcastic. Enough that everyone knew he wasn't happy and was making it known, but not so much as to give Roland an excuse to react negatively. He was clearly pleased with himself, thinking he'd made it impossible for any rational person to deny him that request.


"No," said Roland bluntly. He did not elaborate further. We all just stared at him, and he stared back.


Wesley seemed to be at a loss for how to respond to that, and someone else neatly stepped in, raising a hand. A tall, athletic looking blonde girl with a ponytail and a wide, magnetic smile. "Hi, Catherine here, I was wondering if we could get some more background on the threat in general? I totally understand not wanting to share battle plans," she sneered at Wesley. "SOME of us have better sense than to try to compromise operational integrity to score brownie points, but I think most of us are a little confused right now, and any light you could shed on the situation would be helpful."


Despite her warm smile and sincerity, she might as well have had a billboard behind her mocking him for being gauche and overly obvious. He glared back, but she just ignored him. The black haired girl next to her, who looked nearly identical except the hair color, just smirked at him. Sarah, I would assume.


Delia took this one. "That was on the agenda for this conclave, yes. We will address those concerns once any of our more hesitant relatives extricate themselves from the proceedings. Do we have any takers on that offer?"


There was a slight hesitation, just a brief pause where people weighed the options, and then about ten people got up and left. Delia and Roland didn't seem particularly upset about the loss. She waited to see if anyone else would leave, and I was actually kind of surprised no one did. Once she was sure she had our complete attention, she nodded.


"Very well," she said calmly. "Now that we are all in attendance, I will begin by catching everyone up on current events. As of this moment, this planet is under siege by the forces of the Void. The limitations inherent in the terrain remain stable, but attempts have been made by the Void to subvert those limitations to their advantage. Thanks to several enterprising groups of Ascendants, those attempts have failed, but that have NOT ceased."


Sarah raised her hand this time. "What kind of attempts?" she asked warily.


"Construction appears to have gotten underway to build a Void ladder, with the express purpose of submerging the heirworld itself, along with all of us on its surface, into the depths of the Void." She said stoically. "Should these attempts succeed, I trust I need not spell out what our fates will be."


Everyone I could see flinched. Like it was choreographed, every one of my relatives physically recoiled from the thought. It occurred to me that I might have accidentally missed out on something of a communal nightmare of my family based on my relatives and experiences.


Wishmasters nominally controlled who we could help or grant wishes to. Nominally. But if someone captured me and forced me to grant a wish on pain of death, or of losing Callie, I would do it. Fair compensation would still be required, but that was to prevent me from benefiting and unbalancing the wish. Being FORCED to help would most likely just increase the price a bit, if that.


For everyone here, the idea of being held captive and used as an on demand wish service must have been their most horrible nightmare come to life. Being with Zeke, then my mom, and then in various "safe" locations (and wasn't that a weird thing to think unironically, but from this perspective it fit) meant I hadn't had to worry about that particular bit of horror up to this point.


Having seen the Void, I could understand even better what they were afraid of, and it made my heart ache a bit. Competitive or not these were my family. My blood. I didn't know them well, but I didn't like the idea of them being terrorized like that.


Delia, surprisingly, seemed to agree. "There is no shame in fear," she said to the disturbed crowd. "I do not hold the desires of those who left against them, I simply consider them unworthy to lead us. Similarly, your own fear is immaterial, especially in light of your bravery and willpower. You have faced your terror and emerged victorious. Bravery is not the absence of fear, but its conquest."


Wesley, who had stayed, looked unhappy with the direction things were going. He tried to interject. "What do we know about the Void forces?" he asked loudly. "I assume we have some sort of data on what resources that have available? Or are we going in blind?"


"If you wish to attempt this task blind, I could carve out your eyeballs," Roland said mildly. "Does that sound helpful?" The swordmaster stared the younger Ascendant down coldly, not a hint of joke or mercy in his tone.


Wesley reeled back. "What? No! I don't…that's not necessary. I was just hoping for some intelligence."


"A wish beyond even our ancestor's ability to grant you, I suspect," Delia said in a stoic tone that made her casual insult WAY more devastating. "But we might be able to gift you some information instead."


That got a smattering of laughs from the crowd, but Delia didn't focus on it. She started outlining a few discovered bases, double agents, and supply chains they'd discovered. I was pretty shocked, honestly, my family was way more on the ball than I'd expected. I supposed I tended to take the competence of others for granted, but you don't run a faction equal to the five faction alliance members without some serious skills.


"With all of that laid out," she said. "We have only one opportunity to lay waste to these attackers. Any we miss will be warned off and will scatter, potentially never to be seen again. As such, we will be splitting into teams. Five of you in each, with your guards included. You will be given a location, as well as several neighboring locations. Should you accomplish your primary mission, you may move on to assisting with another operation. The entire strike will have a duration of one hour."


She went on to clarify the rules, elaborating on the power distribution of the individual bases and how they would be strictly curated to be within our capabilities. Wishes would be used to ensure the match ups would be as close to fair as possible, though that would ensure the strongest of us would be fighting the most difficult battles. She also mentioned that we could have members of our retinue accompany us, but that there was a manpower limit, and that we would need to get permission to get help during this trial. I sighed. Let the negotiations begin.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So I can bring five D-rankers, two C-rankers, and four B-rankers," I informed my friends tiredly as I slumped on the couch. Negotiating with Delia had been…stressfull. I had assumed it would be a formality, given we were family and I was doing this for her trial, but she'd put me through the ringer.


About a dozen different stipulations about power distribution, point caps, loot distribution, and any number of other niche and frankly outlandish bullet points had been added to the contract where my forces had been laid out.


I was honestly almost as impressed as I was horrified. Callie, meanwhile, was less than thrilled. "So they want you to run off to the middle of nowhere to fight the Void at a fraction of your strength? Why would they use THAT as a test? That's so dangerous. This isn't a game, the consequences of this could be catastrophic!" She growled in frustration. "What is WRONG with your family?"


Sighing, I explained my hypothesis that Delia and Roland were part of a proactive faction being hamstrung by traditionalists. Callie just grimaced.


"I'm not…unfamiliar with that dynamic," she admitted. "We had some hardliners like that in the Guild when I was growing up. Everyone had to work around them, because of course they never compromise. This is how we've always done things so it's the right way." The voice she used to spit out that line made me pretty sure it was either a quote or based on the tone of a specific person, but I didn't have a chance to ask, because Bethy interrupted excitedly.


"So who gets to go? Is it me? Is it? Can I go Shane, pretty please? I've been working on a new ability! It'll either allow me to teleport or turn someone into a cabbage." I was…unsure if she was kidding about that. "If it's the first one, there's a REALLY good chance I can control what happens when I use it!" That one seemed like less of a joke.


I grimaced. "Bethy, I think maybe for your next few tricks, you should look into something more…understated."


"Pshaw, understatement is for nerds," she snorted. "I prefer THUNDERSTATEMENT!" She leapt to her feet and bellowed that last word so loud the glasses on the table shook. Someone banged on the floor upstairs and she winced. "SORRY!" She shouted up at the ceiling.


I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Thunderstatement isn't a real term, Bethy." I cut her off with a glare, pointing my finger at her. "And don't use your hypnosis to start convincing people it is. I've been getting complaints that some of the last batch you tried that on have been having memory problems."


"Nothing serious," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I had to delete some stuff to make room for the improvements. It'll come back eventually. I think. Or it'll get worse. But that almost never happens."


I glared at her. "Do not EXPERIMENT on members of my army, Bethany," she pouted at the use of her full name.


"It's nothing too serious," Callie soothed me. "Bethy would never hurt an ally. I'm guessing we can wipe it out with some basic purification flame treatment. We can have Chelsea look them over, maybe give them some time off or something. But he's right, Bethy. No more hypnosis on allies. Even as a joke. I know you didn't do anything drastic but some things aren't ok to do as pranks."


She wilted a bit. "I…ok. I swear it was just dumb little stuff. Like the word thing, and that one guy who called Chelsea a bitch, so I added a compulsion for him to drink shampoo to his shower routine."


"Wait, what guy-" I started to ask in outrage, but Callie steamrolled over me.


"As long as you know now," she said serenely. "But I think bringing Bethy on the raid is a good plan. We need to keep an eye on her anyway. Do you really want to leave her alone in the camp with our entire force for who knows how long? She'll probably start another fake religion."


I rolled my eyes. "Fine. We could use the help anyway. Abel, you're with us, obviously. Callie, you would kill me if I tried to leave you home. Dayna, would be useful to have you along, and for our last party member…" I scanned the room, before finally settling on someone I think surprised a lot of people. "Mel. We haven't done a mission together in a bit, and you'll be a huge help with Callie's fire stuff. Assuming you two have gotten around to perfecting that without Chelsea bridging you?"


Mel nodded excitedly. "It's just an invocation when there's only two of us. Totally doable. It only gets complicated when you have a ton of inputs. If one party member is steering things you don't even need the diagram, but for real combinations anything past two is a nightmare. Hell yes! This is going to be great, thanks Shane!"


"Hey thank me by setting a bunch of Void shit on fire," I shrugged. "My darling wife is all brawn no brains when it comes to her heretic fire. I figure someone should be there whose battle strategy goes beyond "MORE FIRE!". Sorry honey, but you know it's true," I told her apologetically.


Callie had been gearing up to snap at me…but just slumped over. "Yeah," she admitted. "It should be taken care of soon though."


I knew what she meant. Callie's control and manipulation abilities were all part of her Abyssal Priestess Path. Until we merged her two power sources together, there was always going to be some lacking overlap. "Anyway," I continued. "Obviously Ellie and Felicity are our C-rankers, and Carmichael and Crell will be joining Fade and Alanna on guard duty for the lot of us, so I hope everyone is excited for some quality camping time. Because we're going to be sleeping out in the wilderness for a few days. Lucky us."


No one seemed worried, which, considering they knew I could make buildings from dirt was reasonable. Still, I had other things on my mind. Namely, I needed to know more about our target. Luckily, I had a local titan right here to question. "So, Fade, what do you know about," I checked the information I'd copied down. "Castle Raymore? Is that a real castle? It doesn't really fit the aesthetic here."


"It is a real castle," he nodded. "It's also…kind of haunted. Well no, it's actually extremely haunted. The Raymores were a necromancer family. They got violently murdered by a rival faction a few hundred years ago. Used some kind of creepy ritual to bind their souls to the castle itself. A few people have tried to move in, but ghosts are a pain in the ass to deal with. Not a lot of purification specialists at high B-rank."


That was interesting, but also unsettling. Could the Void corrupt ghosts? Actually what were B-rank ghosts even LIKE? I didn't think I could purify something that strong, even with Zagan and the boost from my staff. But with the wishes they'd used for this trial, we shouldn't run into anything we couldn't match. "Have you ever been there?" I asked him slowly. "Like do you know what to expect?"


He waggled a hand. "Not personally, but some of my boys have checked it out. It's sort of a local hangout for idiots who want to get into trouble, and several of the Hall's members qualify. The place has a sort of aura around it, the ghosts have leached into the stone. Super cold, drains the life from you, that kind of thing."


Which was unfortunate, to say the least. Because that sounded a LOT like Void taint, and I was pretty sure mixing the two wasn't going to produce puppies and rainbows.


I glanced at Callie, who looked equally worried. All I could do was hope that whatever Vessel was here (and I was positive if there was a Void infiltration happening in the B-rank zone there was a Vessel in charge of it) they weren't actually B-rank themselves. Callie and I could take on a C-rank Vessel. With my staff and our natural advantages we were basically made to crush the Void.


But a B-rank Vessel would be up to our guards to handle. My only consolation was that it wouldn't be a particularly good test of our abilities if they sent us after someone too strong for us to handle, so it was unlikely to make it past the wish they'd used to prepare for us.


"So, when do we need to do this?" Callie asked as she looked over the paperwork I'd drawn up. "I don't see any indication of timing."


"There isn't one," I admitted. "They don't want us to blow the op by leaking anything. I signed a heavy contract for secrecy, but they're doing this blind. We're to get within range and wait for the signal. The whole raid is going to be done within an hour, so we'll all be contacted at the same time and then we move out."


It was needlessly complicated and borderline ridiculous, but that was my family in a nutshell. Besides, Delia was clearly competent, and I was willing to accept that she probably had reasons beyond the one I could fathom for doing it this way. "Anyway, we hear anything about the smith I was looking for?" I asked Fade. "Because I want to get my armor made before this trip if possible. I feel naked without my plate."


"I found one that should be able to swing it," he nodded. "Donovan Redfellow. VERY famous smith around these parts. He's only B-rank, but only by choice. He's got a Mythical smithing Skill at least. Makes some of the best blades on the planet." He tapped the short sword on his hip. "My Devlos is a Redfellow." He drew about an inch of the sword, which I had never actually looked at closely before.


It was B-ranked, much like my staff, but…more. It was SCARY. The steel was pattern forged, but the patterns seemed to shift and twist as the light caught them. The thin red lines in the steel flexed and wove through each other like the sword had pulsating veins.


"And he'll take on the job?" I asked pensively. "Like…soon? Because we need to leave for our posting in the next few days. Some of the targets are further away than others, and they don't want to tip our hand by rushing. How fast does this…Redfellow work?" I was getting excited. That sword was magnificent, and the smith who made it had to be just as amazing. I wanted to see what my new, B-rank armor was going to be like.


"Donovan contacted ME, actually," he admitted. "I hadn't heard from him in a while, but when I put the word out about a smith, he jumped at the chance. Donovan was the person smith of the Hall of Steel before I took office. He and my master, Kairos, built the whole faction from the ground up. I think he heard about us working with you and wants to support our dreams of getting off planet. Of course, he would be coming along. But I somehow doubt that's a problem."


I snorted. "Oh of course, how dare you force me to recruit a world class blacksmith who could effectively outfit my entire force. I mean, I'm sure the materials would be exorbitant, but having someone like that on staff would be a game changer. I assume I have to do…something to get him on my side?"


"He's watching the results of this trial," he admitted. "He'll do the work on your armor for payment. But if you want him working for you, you need to win this. Handily. If you can do it though…Donovan is someone who operates at a respected level in the A-rank zone. Having him with us will not only be good for your people, it'll open a lot of doors." He grinned at me ruefully. "But hey, no pressure."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The trip out to the forest was pretty easy. A group of Ascendants can move shockingly fast over land, even when suppressed by a high level planet. When we arrived at the location in question, I was kind of underwhelmed. Not by the castle itself, exactly, but by the information gathering abilities of my cousins. I'd been impressed they'd managed to find this place so easily, but staring at it now, I quickly revoked that positive impression.

"Subtle," I said wryly as we stared up at the castle on the cliff. A castle, mind, that was coated in a bank of roiling back fog. It looked…dense. Not like Void taint, exactly, but something more.

My wife shrugged. "Well this IS the middle of the forest. We're hundreds of miles from the nearest town, and it's not like there are many people doing flyovers. Flying here is exhausting, in case you didn't notice. Even the birds don't do it for too long."

I had noticed that. It was doable, at least if you had wings, but no one below B-rank would be flying around here without them, and even the B-rankers themselves would have run into problems doing it long term. "So, how do we approach?" I asked slowly. "I assume that the wish they used will separate us to fight individual enemies, I just don't know what form that'll take. Should we split up on our own so it doesn't happen dramatically or just take it for granted and go in normal?"

Wishes were…complicated. It was one of the reasons I tended to keep mine very specific or VERY general. Trading points, or wishing for "good luck" were both hard wishes to fuck up. Ironically, leaving so much open to intent with the latter made it easier for the wish to find a reasonable outlet to accomplish the stated end goal. But for more specific stuff like "make sure we get into the castle and only run into enemies we can handle"... well that was both open to interpretation enough to go bad and specific enough to possibly require some extreme measures to happen as stated.

Everyone just kind of looked at me. Bethy, of course, was the first to speak up. "We should split up!" She said excitedly. "Like in stories, whenever people split up they get attacked by vampires. But I'm vampires. So if we split up, either no one will get attacked, we'll all get attacked by me, or one of my siblings will be in there. And because of the wish, two of those things almost definitely won't happen."

Ellie frowned at her. "Wait…which two?"

"The latter two," I admitted. "The wish is to meet up with people suited for us to fight. Anyone who runs into Bethy is going to be screwed. Everyone with us is either way too strong or not strong enough. I'm honestly a little worried about what she might run into here, but splitting up will make sure no one ELSE runs into it, because anything legitimately dangerous to her would butcher the rest of our D-rankers like chickens."

My bodyguard looked skeptical, but Callie just nodded along. "It's true. Bethy is basically unbeatable at the same level unless you have cheaty purification bullshit like Chelsea or Shane. I'm guessing she'll bump into a weak C-ranker."

"The point is, she's right," I said with a sigh. "I can feel that it's the right choice. My instincts are screaming at me to split up." I sighed. "I really wish they weren't, but they are. Everyone else down for that?" It was a rhetorical question. I was stalling. I HATED splitting up. Watching my wife and best friends walk off into a creepy Void fog was like top ten on my nightmare list, but I refused to let THEM see that. A leader needs to appear confident, even when he isn't. Possibly ESPECIALLY when he isn't. For Ascendants, faking it until you make it was a way of life.

Everyone tried to seem comfortable with it, but all the D-rankers and both C-rankers weren't. I could smell the falsehoods when they talked shit about how easy things would be. I obviously said nothing.

With a quick hug for my wife, I waited until we got the go ahead from the trial overseers and then took off into the fog. I took a few steps in…and then vanished.

Well, I didn't vanish. Everything else vanished. I grimaced. "I'm guessing you just disappeared into the darkness?" I asked my wife through the bond. I looked around, trying to find any landmark to use as guidance in the fog, because all my vision had been swallowed by the darkened mist.

"Pretty much," she said distractedly. "Stay safe, hon. And watch your back. Love you."

I returned the sentiment, along with a healthy dose of affection through the bond, then returned my focus to the world around me. It was dark. Empty. I was alone. I yawned. I'd been through so much worse. Torture, solitude, I'd ground away any weaknesses in these areas ages ago. So I just kept walking.

The space seemed to twist. I walked for about five minutes. Then ten. I was beginning to think I was in a loop or something, until I came to a stop in front of a building. A tall multi dwelling a apartment complex.

"Home is where the heart is, huh?" I asked derisively. "Bit on the nose, don't you think?"

There was no answer. I headed inside, took the stairs up, then stepped into my old apartment for the first time in years. We'd abandoned the place when we'd moved to Rajak, but I'd lived there for most of my life. The couch where I'd watched shows on my scan ring, the back room with Zeke's work bench where he made masks.

And there, in the middle of the room, sitting in a beat up looking chair, sat me. I rolled my eyes. "I give this a two out of ten," I said with a snort. "The ruined soul temple already tried this, and it didn't work there either."

This wasn't my first time confronting another me. I'd done this dance before, and this version wasn't going to be the one that broke me. In fact, I was pretty sure this one wasn't really me at all. The blue glow in the irises of his maskless eyes were very familiar. That was odd though. "Hey, why don't you have a mask on?" I asked suspiciously. "I'm wearing one, so it would stand to reason you would be too."

"Because I can't," the other me sighed. "I tried. It's…there's something off about that mask. Some interaction with the duplication. I can't make a mask of that mask."

Presumably, Zeke was too powerful for this B-ranked threat to copy. Some kind of authority among the masks at play? It was interesting but not important. "Kind of ruins any chance of you copying me for properly, doesn't it? Why even bother using my face? You had to know I wouldn't buy it."

"I admit, I was mostly going for confusion and self doubt," he shrugged. "But I don't believe that'll be possible with you. I wonder, why are YOU bothering with this? We know about your heresy. This fog is dripping with Void. You could burn it away easily."

I shook my head. "It's only half Void. The other half is some undead lifedrinking ghost shit. No idea how it'll react when freed." I didn't mention the wish, which was another big reason. This whole arrangement was going as planned. Which meant this was either a high D-rank or low C-ranked enemy. Probably…"You're the Vessel here," I decided. "The one in charge?"

He gave me an amiable nod. "I am. Not enough B-rank Vessels to have one running every outpost. I wonder though. How are you going to use that information?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him suspiciously. "Now we fight."

"We could," he acknowledged. "But do we have to? Surely you've considered that with so many various forces among the Void Children, conflicts will be inevitable. That there might be room for compromise."

I froze. I…hadn't. But that made some kind of sense. Maybe. "How would that work. The Void Children hate those of us in realspace. Our legends are loud and cause them pain. They want to wipe us out." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Or are you claiming that isn't the case?" I wanted him to give me a straight answer on this. My Scent of Truth would make discerning the veracity of any claims easy, but only if he MADE claims. He'd been very careful to pose abstract hypotheticals up to this point.

"That's true," he admitted. "But realspace and the Void overlap in many places. If there are noisy spots, there are quiet spots too. Not ALL of the Void is constantly bombarded with noise. At least not normally. For those in the deeper reaches, the war itself is unnecessary noise. Those who live at the edges have dragged the rest of them into this conflict, and it's ruining the peace of the deepchildren."

I hadn't considered that. I knew very little about the Void in general, and Void Children in particular. "Alright," I acknowledged. "So you're interested in what, an alliance? You expect me to believe that?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said with a laugh. "There are interested parties who might open a dialogue, is all I'm saying. But that's predicated on your ability to earn that interaction."

I frowned at him. That sounded ominous. Not just what he said, but the WAY he said it. There was a certain hungry amusement to the sentiment that make me tense up. My Danger Sense was pinging, but it had been for a while now. It had suddenly cranked up to eleven. "What are you doing?" I asked him harshly.

He put his hand to his chest in a shocked parody of a gasp. "Me? Why, nothing. Nothing at all. In fact. I was just leaving. Can't very well participate in the test myself. Otherwise the results will be suspect. Have fun now, and don't die on me. I do so look forward to our next talk."

There was a flicker in the air around me, and then he vanished. As did the apartment, and all the black from the fog. I was left standing in a field of unrelenting grey on top of a hill.

I froze. He'd withdrawn the Void taint. I hadn't expected that. But now that it was gone… it was just me and the ghosts. The wish must still be restricting me from meeting anything too far out of my weight class, because none of them were B-rank, but there were several C-ranked spirits. I could see them in the fog, their shapes forming just out of sight.

I tried Dantalion, but it was like trying to look through butter. Too much information in every inch of space for me to easily view what was happening.

"Solomon," whispered a voice in my ear. "Shane," came another from the other side. "We see you," a third hissed. "We KNOW you."

I sighed. "I'm sure," I said in annoyance. "I don't suppose you all became ghosts because you really wanted to see a rainbow or a sunset before you died but never got the chance? Because I could make that happen I'm pretty sure. Maybe you all wanted to taste a really delicious chocolate silk pie? Come on people, last requests, last meals, anything you want."

"We will dine on your soul," came a thousand voices from all around me. "Feast on your flesh. Gnaw on your bones. You will be our last meal, Wyndham. And you will be…delicious."

Sighing, I shook my head, then cracked my neck. I activated the one form I suspected might help me here, triggering my staff to boost Zagan to C-rank as I looked around in annoyance. "Alright, but I have to warn you. I'm way spicier than I look. I'm definitely going to give you indigestion." Sadly, my awesome line didn't seem to have much effect. They attacked anyway. Everyone's a critic.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The ghosts fell on me like a pack of rabid hyenas. Probably. I wasn't sure if hyenas retained the necessary presence of mind to form a pack after contracting rabies, but in a general sense, they were a group of very angry barely lucid monsters who definitely wanted to do me harm, so it was close enough.

They weren't the strongest ghosts here. These were C-rank ghosts, not B-rank. I suspected the wish had somehow tweaked things to allow me to end up here, otherwise I'd have definitely met some of the original owners of this place. Still, they fell on me with tooth and claw, and as their hands and weapons sank into my body, I felt icy shards of pain radiate from the impact sites.

It was agonizing, but ultimately not more than I could handle. More than that though, I felt something…deeper. Soul strain. Not from draining power or my own effort, but an actual attack on my spirit in a way I'd never really experienced before. With each burst of pain and damage, the green life energy in me flared, Zagan acting as protection and renewal all at once as it attempted to repair the damage even as it was happening.

My staff whirled, trying to deflect and distance them from me, but I ran into an issue I hadn't expected. Ghosts weren't solid, but my Ten Demons Tree was a soul based item. It could do all sorts of amazing things, including, apparently, physically interacting with ghosts.

While that might have seemed like a good thing under other circumstances, it was definitely NOT in these. My staff couldn't get enough room to maneuver, and the crowd of ghosts was too dense for me to even use Double Trouble to get out of. I couldn't see the edges, and if I appeared behind one of the interior spirits I'd just end up in the middle of the crowd.

So…I dropped the staff. Or at least, returned it to my soul. I needed room to move, and more importantly, I needed to commit. I was letting myself get bogged down in choice paralysis. My C-ranked Zagan form was keeping me from taking TOO much damage, but the bit that was getting through was starting to mount. If I sat around panicking, I was going to get dragged down and killed.

In a situation like this, when I was surrounded and had no way out, I only had one real option. Make a breakout point. Pick a specific ghost and tear into it, then do it again.

I let them all slash and snap and tear, feeling the pain as they tried their best to eat away at my soul. It was horrible, well beyond most of the pain I'd been through even in my trials for the Lady. Most.

But finally, I spotted one that would work. He was…small. I thought he was a kid at first, albeit a tall one, but upon closer inspection, I was pretty sure he was just malnourished and sporting a baby face. I triggered Dantalion as I grabbed him, then focused and started to pour green fire into his spirit.

He froze, then screamed, trying to get away, but I ignored it, holding him like iron as the others tore into me. Dantalion was necessary here. It taught me how to interpret what I was doing, because my next move was something I had never tried before.

Ghosts, by dint of the stories I'd heard, were people who had unfinished business. Spirits of Ascendants left behind when they died. They were NOT human beings. You couldn't leave behind a part of a soul beneath Mirror. If a soul broke, the person it belonged to ceased to exist. Mirror souls were the ONLY exception to that rule. No resurrection, no healing, no last minute save. That was the end. At least for the sentient parts of a soul. People like Benny and my dad could access certain aspects of a soul separate from the part with a will and consciousness, though the how was a little complicated, but their "bound souls" weren't thinking beings with emotions like these ghosts.

Because of this, it could be understood that ghosts were not broken souls. What they WERE, as far as I could tell, were more like…stuck souls. Still complete, but wedged into reality in the wrong way and jammed outside of a body. Ghosts weren't exactly controllable. They were more…confused. Spirits so lost they couldn't leave, and by virtue of that, too confused to resist simple commands as given by necromancers. You could even command your OWN ghost if you did it right, essentially using a ritual or ability to wedge yourself into reality ahead of time with FAKE unfinished business.
Regardless, this process was damaging. In order to get stuck, ghosts needed to be twisted in just the right way. Not many abilities could do it, because souls were tough to interact with, so not everyone understood the process, but I'd looked into it.

Which was where my current plan came from. I focused all my information from Dantalion in this particular spirit. On understanding him. On gaining a grasp of him. "Tyler," I breathed out, staring into his screaming face. "Tyler Reubens." He froze, the flames pouring into him quicker. As they dug in deeper, I gained more information. I learned more about him. The first thing I did was erase any artificial compulsions from necromancy, cleansing his spirit so that if he was being kept stuck it was only by his own will and unfinished business.

Then, once that was done, I started another process. Genesis Burst had been developed to heal my cousin from long term soul damage. The process her father had used to train her willpower to resist recursion had actually shared some similarities with making a ghost, and that gave me a place to start. I focused on the most recent problem plaguing him, the most recent pain of the soul I could find with Dantalion, and then I released a Genesis Burst.

The cleansing fire melted away the pain, easing the hurt and pacifying that part of the unquiet mind. Then I found the next one. I repeated the process. Tyler had gone still, the screaming stopped, and was staring into my eyes, tears trailing down his spectral face. I liked to think that I saw a flash of ease at the end, a split second of relief and gratitude as he began to burn in earnest, and his spectral form was cleansed from the world around it by the flames of Zagan.

After that, it was a blur. Grab a ghost, cleanse a ghost. My head…my head hurt. So badly. I hadn't felt soul strain like that since I was first starting out. Zagan helped with that too, actually, restoring a bit of the damage as I went. About halfway through, I felt another spirit enter the equation. A steady, soothing presence that was always there with me, stepping forward to shield me from harm as Callie interposed herself between the strain of using Dantalion.

She couldn't do much for Zagan. It was a C-ranked skill used through the staff, and she didn't have a Chronicle, so she wasn't capable of holding up under that weight. But she was there. She helped.

When I finally finished, when the last ghost was gone, cleansed from the hill I stood on, I wobbled and started to fall. But I didn't hit the ground. Callie caught me. Her embrace soft and comforting as she lowered us to the ground. I groaned, my head pounding, and looked around for any sign of the Void Vessel. I saw nothing. He was gone, as was the Void taint. The fog left behind had thinned noticeably at least at the edges.

Bethy and Abel appeared beside us, looking tense when they saw my condition. When I waved them off though, they nodded, then took off to help the others. Callie just held me, letting my rest my head in her lap, and rubbed my temples, humming softly as I recovered.

It took me about five minutes of that to realize she'd removed my mask to do it, and another five to realize why the sky above me was so blurry. She didn't speak, didn't even look directly at me. Just sat and hummed and rubbed my head as I cried. Over the tragically short life of Tyler Ruebens, and Daniel Godwin, and Sally Caruthers, and a dozen other people that I'd never met, but whose tragedies I had learned far too much about during that hellish and bizarre panoply of overstimulation and agonizing torment.

I thought I'd known torment. Had understood it. I'd thought nothing could hurt me anymore. But I still had the capacity for taking pains. As I wept there, in the shadow of that haunted castle, a part of me was glad for it. I'd come so far, changed so much, and I was getting farther and farther from the person I had been. Sometimes I relished that growth. Sometimes not so much.

It was hard not to think about my own tragedies. Not the pain they inspired, because I had slowly burned that part of myself away. I had cleansed the scars and the petty poison of weakness from myself, built myself up like I'd needed to in order to become more than I was. I'd Ascended, and left so much behind, just like Zeke had warned me years ago at the beginning of all this.

And just because I was already hurting, was already broken down. I allowed myself the smallest amount of self pity. I allowed myself to cry for one more lost soul. For Shane Wyndham, a shy boy from a backwater city on a backwater mining planet, who I had essentially killed on the path to becoming the man I was today. Because no one else was ever going to know about his sacrifice, or care about his loss.

My maudlin pity party was cut off by a soft pair of lips pressing to mine, and I refocused to find Callie smiling down at me sadly. Tears in her own eyes. "You didn't kill him," she said firmly. I realized I must have been thinking that loudly into the bond for her to pick it up. Probably a side effect of how fragged my head was. "We all grow up. We all change." She nodded at the spot where I'd been standing.

"You saved those people. Strangers you'd never met." She said firmly. "You hurt yourself to lay them to rest and set them free. Not because you didn't have another way, not because you were afraid. Because you cared. Because it was the right thing to do.

Her voice was almost angry in its intensity. "You are every bit the hero you were when we first met. Your heart is every bit as kind. You've come so far. Done so much. And it's been painful, and scary, and hard. You've sacrificed, and lost, and come up short. You protected the people you loved. Brought us with you out into the universe and helped us flourish. You never let go of who you were. Not for a second. Benny can attest to that."

"Is that really a good thing?" I asked hoarsely. "Am I doing that for him? Or am I just clinging to the past pointlessly?"
She grinned at me. "So are you a sentimental idiot who can't let go, or are you a heartless monster who buried all your human emotions in a shallow grave? Can't have it both ways, babe. I think we're going to have to face the fact that you're a flawed, stupid person who sometimes does contradictory things because you can't help but get in your own way. Just like you were the day I met you."

She leaned down to kiss me again. "That boy is still in there, I see him every day. And if you lose sight of him, just ask me, and I'll smack him upside the head so can figure out where he is." I started laughing at that, and I didn't stop. Not even when it broke down into more crying. Of course, Callie was watching out for me. She had us under Murmur. By the time the others came looking, I was back in my mask and perfectly stoic. But I felt lighter somehow. I didn't realize until we had already set off for the nearest Void outpost to try to snag a few more points that my head didn't hurt anymore. How interesting.