Chương 15: -15- Souls Lost and Bound

Vindex- Kalderan College of Soulcraft Vindex looked around the ritual room at his competition and let out a short hiss of a breath. Today was the day; today decided who graduated, who died, and who rose above the chaff and stepped into a role with a chance to wield real power in the empire. Seventeen blasted years, he had survived for seventeen cursed years as an orphan in this land, clawing his way from obscurity.

If he had to kill every other aspirant in this room to bond with the entity he desired, he would do it in a heartbeat. He could have gone the path of the merchant or the farmer, easy roads for the willing in Kaldera, but he just couldn't. It wouldn't lead him to the power he needed. No matter what the mages had tried to do to him as a child. To wash away the memories of a blood-strewn dock, he held onto all of them. His mother reaching out for him even as a soldier twisted a blade deeper into her back.

How his father dwindled in captivity. The light in his eyes going out the moment his mother died. After that, he had given up, becoming a sick shell of a man. Vindex had tried; he really had. At the age of five, he had done his best feeding his father, prodding him along to avoid the ire of their captors. But it wasn't enough; a warband on the way out of enemy lands didn't have time for a useless shell they had to drag along.

Vindex shook his head at the memory, letting the hate burn deep within himself, hidden as it had been for seventeen years. He focused on the task at hand. The Ritual of the Tranquil Seas. Most uninformed thought of the Tranquil Sea as a chaotic, infinite place full of madness and horror. That wasn't wrong, but if you understood it well enough, you could open pathways to the Dead Sea, somewhat stable patches moored by concepts or powerful enough entities within the ever-changing expanse.

Today's test involved one such place. A way would be opened, and he and his peers must bind one of the things beyond or die trying. The danger couldn't be understated; only half would survive this trial. Those who failed to bind anything but survived would be assigned as a soul anchor warden. Those who succeeded… They would be granted a position of real power.

And for those who bound something beyond the ken of the normal, something more than a scrap of scavenging intent, well, they were immediately thrust above their peers, given opportunities unlike any other. Vindex looked around one last time as the preparations finished. There were five others in the arena-shaped room with him, all clad in the simple dark red robes of initiates. Above, perched on pedestals ringing the room, were powerful mages ranging from the second to the third tier.

They were here for two reasons: to open the way and to kill or bind whatever they unleashed if it fought its way past the students. Vindex gazed predatorially at his peers as the room began to grow cold. True loyalists and bullies he had endured for years. They shifted uncomfortably as the air darkened, then a slow ripple in the air spread wide into an uneven doorway of shimmering darkness. Vindex smiled at the panicked expressions across the room; this might be even easier than he had hoped.

They all disappeared one by one into the shadowy doorway. He took one last deep breath of the cold air tinged with just a hint of the beyond and stepped through the doorway. Instantly the scene was a maddening scramble of crying, shouting, and reality itself twisting around him like space was trying to crumple inwards.

Vindex breathed out and jutted both hands out like claws; mana flickered from him, reacting violently with the tranquility, bending it, forcing it into subjugation to stabilize the maddening effect he was encountering. The world stopped swirling and locked into place. He was on a barren, uneven hunk of bone that stretched into the distance, the other students around him nervously spreading out.

They didn't need to; the dark things had already noticed them—a half dozen indistinct shapes flitting in and out of reality towards the group. Vindex snorted; he wasn't here for a scavenger. He ignored the incoming danger and did something foolish, something to attract the attention of a true predator. He reached into his robes and pulled free a small glittering vial containing enough pure energy to power a soul-forged machine and held it high. The entire tranquil sea jolted as things took notice.

Thousands, maybe millions, of distant creatures began shifting across the great expanse towards him. His companions looked at him in horror, and he gave a wicked smile back.

"Don't die yet…I might need a few souls to appease my new companion…" As if on cue, something impacted the bone-like surface they all stood on, unfurling itself in a dizzying, indistinct spray of wings and eyes. It was shaped like a towering man but kept imploding inward on itself in indistinct shadows, wings falling off before reforming and shadowy eyes busting in and out of reality around it.

"You will do…" Vindex growled. The entity eyed him almost curiously when a scavenger streaked towards him, trying to claim the glittering energy for itself. Vindex made a gesture like he was slitting an imaginary foe's throat, and a violent burst of mana shot out, striking the scavenger across the throat, scattering its form into shadow. When the shadows tried to reform, another gesture trapped them in a roiling ball of darkness that slowly hovered over to him.

He held it out to the predatory thing cautiously, his other hand primed to repel it if needed. A dark chuckle rolled across the expanse of infinity from the thing. It gripped the roiling ball of darkness and shifted its everchanging gaze towards his companions expectantly.

"Ahh, you need proof, do you… easy enough… come… let us bind you in the blood of Kalderans..." His voice was almost a whisper tinged with a mad excitement that carried unnaturally across the scattered battlefield. Vindex descended on his companions; a single gesture ripped one to the ground in front of the entity, where it tore him in twain, ripping his soul from the dripping corpse in a golden shimmer. Then it lunged for Vindex. He smiled; it was to be expected from anything truly powerful, after all.

His hands shot out motes of darkness, stretching like marionette strings onto the creature, slowly grinding it to a halt. With a heaving roar, he forced it to turn towards the next nearest student and released his binding. The beast paused and then lunged at the student. This back and forth continued, with Vindex warding off the probing attempts to consume his soul and slowly working through the nearby students until it was finally done. As the fifth student fell, he felt a flicker of weakness or satiety.

And more importantly, he felt an iota of understanding of what this monster was. He pounced, pouring every shred of his will and power into the creature. The bloodsoaked patch of the dead sea shuddered as a binding contract was made and another Kalderan mage passed their ascension trial, bringing yet another horror back into the material. The vast presences in the distance slowed to a stop as the foul magic washed over them and the source of disruption faded.

Calder-Costal Road Rest Stop You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Calder pulled himself out of his tent with a pained groan before first light. He was determined to get out of camp without running into Hellen again and adding further fuel to the rumor mill that woman would certainly be starting about him. He clambered onto his bleary-eyed mount and gave it a fond pat as they began trekking through the icy morning air.

The road started slowly twisting away from the coastline about an hour from the camp. Cutting into the snowy pines and further from the sea air. Small, almost rainbow-colored blooms formed from fat leaves peaked out of the snow as far as the eye could see. They were called winter's blush. A unique and very needed dash of color that bloomed throughout winter and sat dormant in the summers. Calder's still unnamed horse trotted along at what could best be described as a sedate pace.

He had decided that the horse wasn't being kind; it was just lazy as sin. It wasn't about to actually run unless Calder made it run. And if he did that, he would fall the hell off, so for now… the horse lived the life of sedate luxury. Calder didn't mind much the horse was already saving him time even at this pace. And honestly it was amusing. He had never seen a horse that snorted, stomped, or just whinnied so unnecessarily all the time. Squirrel gets too close? Stomp the hooves. Tree branch falls?

Whinny angrily in its direction. The air is cold? Snorts of displeasure… and the air here was ALWAYS cold. He gently tugged the reins to the side as a well-worn dirt path split off from the road back towards the coast. An ancient but still legible sign was carved from a boulder with a simple arrow and a short message on it: "Dungeon This Way. Beware, the Still Stone Barrow Has Many Foes. Normal Weapon Will Not Harm."

Calder snorted; he preferred calling it the Ghastly Grotto even if its official name was more dire sounding. The horse grumbled a bit but eventually adjusted its course so they were trotting back towards the coast down the dirt trail. Calder had never been to the dungeon, but he had heard plenty about it from both soldiers and adventurers. Hell, even his grandpa had some stories. Grandpa had accompanied a mining expedition that went there for one of the rare marble types it was stuffed with.

Because some noble's wife insisted his gravestone just had to be perfect. And Joel wasn't about to disappoint a customer offering many times the going rates in these lean times. The stories all had a lot in common. Ghosts, specters, and the undead abound. And that was just on the surface tunnels. He had heard whispers of absolute horrors if you delved too far within and an inexplicable twisting of perception and time. Calder didn't plan on going very deep, just far enough to get the Darksteel ore he needed.

He figured he would probably pry a few more levels out of the dungeon just surviving long enough to find the damn ore. Calder trotted along, wincing for the next few hours with the sun slowly rising overhead. At almost the exact moment it finally crested the steely, snowswept bluffs, the path snaked sharply to the right, diving down into what looked like the bastard mix of a shanty town and a mine.

Only thirty or so strides from the bluff edge itself, a large opening was hewn at a sharp angle down into the earth and stone. A half-hearted attempt at graveling the path leading into the dungeon had been made to slightly ease past mining efforts. Scattered with no real order around was a collection of buildings. A few drab homes made with layered pines from the nearby forest and two larger structures.

One was a slightly infamous inn, The Ghost Dust Tavern, a rather cruelly tongue-in-cheek name considering how many miners died a stone's throw from its doors. The building had sunk slightly on its foundations over the years, noticeably tilting backwards, but it at least had a shoddy coat of blue paint plastered across the front. The building next to it was a perfectly rectangular store with a single window and absolutely no adornment of any kind.

It was a general store run by one of the mining interests in the kingdom. Why they bothered to still have a presence here since all large-scale mining stopped, he would never know, but it at least meant he had an ample supply of slightly overpriced torches he could buy. And luckily both places accepted raw ore for payment, although if his grandfather's words were true, it was at an almost thieving level of exchange. Calder grumbled quietly to himself as he trotted up to the inn and very shabby stable set behind it.

The thing had no doors, and the straw looked like it was damn near molding. A single mule looked up at him as if asking for help.

"Gods…I can smell it from here…" Calder's horse shielded away from his fate.

"Ha, no, sorry buddy, you won't be living the life of luxury the next few days, but you won't have to actually work, so, you know, take the win." He tied off the mount while chuckling at his own poor joke and then made his way up some very squishy stairs. He stopped at one point certain his bulk was going to be the final straw, taking the short staircase down and him with it. He let out a relieved sigh when it only splintered slightly.

The inside of the inn was just as bad as the outside, maybe a bit worse with the almost putrid smell of stale ale. There wasn't even a classic bar, just a cutout window leading to the kitchen on the right. A hearth that had seen better years with some smoldering coals. Finally, a collection of very out-of-place-looking rough-hewn stone tables with an utter mishmash of unmatched chairs pulled up to them. There were only three souls in the whole room that Calder could see.

One was a town guard who was looking up from his table with a deep frown at Calder, obviously not wanting to have to deal with him if he were a problem. The other was a greasy balding man with thin eyes and a belly he had to heft onto tables while he was cleaning them with a dirty rag. Calder figured he was the innkeeper. The last was a spectral form that was staring over the town guard's shoulder, trying to read what was in the ledger he had open across the table. Calder stared at the ghost in surprise.

It looked like an adventurer, rapier at his side, slightly foppish hat perched on his head, and beneath the warped ghostly visage, what would have been a very youthful face. The guard mistook his starting and halfway stoodup, trying to feign bravery at being stared down by an armed giant who could probably crush his skull bare-handed.

"We... uhh... are going to have a problem, mister...?" Calder shook his head.

"Oh, no, sorry about that. I was blinded from walking into the dark after staring at the sea glare!"

"Mmmhmmm…" Was all the guard offered in response before sitting down with a barely audible sigh of relief. The greasy man heaved his way over to Calder.

"Welcome to my fine establishment!

"Names Lurn, Room? Board?" He peeked out a dirty window at the horse.

"Stabling services? I have all available for very reasonable rates!" Something about the man made Calder uncomfortable; he was like a greasy snake trying to wring every coin he could while offering little in return.

"Just stabling for now…"

"Alright, that will be three silver per day, sir!" Calder stared at him without saying anything until it grew uncomfortable.

"Two silver per day, sir?" Calder gave a single, deeply dissatisfied blink.

"Silver and five coppers a day, sir! And I'll include feed!" Calder sighed; it was still egregious for a bag of grain and a shack, but he could afford it.

"Alright, make sure to take care of him." Calder handed over several days worth of coinage. The innkeeper practically scuttled outside, and shortly after, the town guard begrudgingly got up as well, heading out the door for his morning rounds. At this point Dectus had finally wandered in and was staring at the other ghost curiously, then at Calder, before making a "do something" gesture. The other ghost looked in awestruck shock straight at Calder and then at Dectus. Hmm yep, can't do that in the tavern…

Calder looked to make sure no one was watching, then pointed straight at the ghost, followed by a come-hither finger gesture before abruptly turning around and exiting the tavern. He stalked straight down the path towards the dungeon with both ghosts in tow. The cave mouth was ominous; light faded away unnaturally fast as he stepped into it. The path trailed farther down, and the cave walls slowly opened up, exposing abandoned mining equipment and pick-scarred stone walls.

This first chamber had obviously been mined extensively. Well, I'm out of sight, and this damn place seems to be a ghost town, no pun intended. Let's see what Shepherd of Souls is all about. [Grasp of the Beyond 4/100] [Gaze of the Beyond 5/100] Should be enough if I'm damn quick about it. Want to make sure he actually wants to be shuffled off the mortal coil after all. Calder turned and faced the hopeful-looking ghost that was right on his tail, channeling Make material.

The ghost shimmered into reality, his hands reaching out desperately to claw at Calder's cloak.

"Please, please! Help me. I've been stuck here for I don't know how long. God, there is no escape. The things in the tunnels try and consume me. No one else can see me, please…" Calder cut off Make material, not wanting to waste his very limited grasp.

"Yep, sounds like a 'please send me the hell away from here' to me!" Calder nodded at the ghost and extended his hand again. The trembling figure reached out hopefully, and for the first time, Calder used Shepard of Souls.