Universe One; The Game of Lives
By Thomas Baskerville
Chapter 18; Gods That Bleed
“How the hell did it gain so much strength so quickly?” Dracona scoffed. Staff’s eyes were quickly drawn to the dragon sword still within the corrupted tree spirit’s grip.
“Magical power is being channelled through a link.” He revealed, “Someone on the other side of the connection is pouring monstrous amounts of magical power into that thing.”
“Doesn’t matter how.” Axe quickly snapped at the two of them, “That thing is beginning to tear this very world apart. We need to end this now.”
“Indeed.” Staff muttered, “Where the hell is Gary when you need him?” He quietly whispered to himself.
Black vines began unleashing themselves in monstrous masses. Each one surrounded by the very same code defying cracks as they began to overwhelm the entire hellscape. The infernal rock and lava smothered by pitch black corrupted plant life. The entire dimension itself began to quake as the three admins retreated to the safety of one of Staff’s barrier shields.
“It’s tearing the hellscape itself apart.” Zoie winced, “Holding it is a losing battle.”
“Fighting this thing in the Gameworld itself won’t end well.” Axe muttered as he watched the enveloping black vines begin to systematically pierce through Staff’s now many layered shields.
“I don’t think we’re getting a choice in the matter.” Staff grunted as he stubbornly held his arms outstretched either side of him, holding the shields in place with his magic.
***
Arthur steadied Caledfwlch and carefully aimed his strike. A powerful, quick swing of her blade was instantly caught by the hand of one of the corrupted tree spirit’s he’d tried to decapitate in one fell swoop. Arthur quickly yanked Caledfwlch free of its grip and backed away a few paces. The element of surprise hadn’t worked, although given how powerful these beings were, he wasn’t exactly surprised. The tree spirit that had countered him turned from the rest of the group to now confront him. The remaining seven shifted to fill the gap in the circle. Their magical power still flowing into the dragon sword at the centre of their worship.
“Only one?” Caledfwlch sighed as her magical power flared like a growling tiger against the wall of magical power the corrupted tree spirit was outputting simply by existing, “You’ve not been seen as a real threat.”
“No complaints here.” Arthur muttered as he eyed the other seven, who still seemed completely focused on the channelling of magical power, “We’re good, but not that good.”
“Left!” Caledfwlch suddenly warned. Arthur’s eyes shifted left to instantly spy several black vines moving at lightning speed towards him. Eight fast, clean slices of Caled’s blade brought them to a dead stop as their razor-sharp ends fell dead and powerless onto the floor before vanishing into the surrounding shadows.
“You’ll need a bit more than some weeds to deal with me, tree stump.” Arthur taunted the corrupted tree spirit. The spirit slowly tilted its wooden mask, as if it had understood his words, and very much not liked his tone. It’s puppet-like arm snapped to aim his way. The ground between them tore itself to pieces. Rocks and large boulders lifted into the air, sharpened and compacted, then began aiming towards Arthur.
“God, I hate Earth Magic.” Arthur cursed to himself as he glanced at his own blade. Normally magic was something he was comfortable fighting, but Earth Magic was troubling for the simple matter that it wasn’t very magical. Spells of fire, ice, and lightning were easy things for Arthur, but a physical rock couldn’t exactly be countered in the same way, even if it was being thrown using magic. Knowing full well he’d not be able to effectively counter the oncoming attack, he rather sensibly turned and ran.
Almost immediately he found himself dodging and weaving between tree trucks as sharp, dense rocks tore through the forest like guided missiles. Each one tore through at least three or four thick trees before finally slamming into the ground with enough force to nearly throw Arthur off his feet despite dodging them completely. His eyes glanced upward at the thick canopy above. Focusing between the leaves, his face lit up with a slight grin as he found the answer he was looking for. As he barely dodged another rock, he began quickly recalling the short walk he’d taken to get to the shrine and started to expertly backtrack on the fly. In no time at all, Arthur emerged from the treeline and into the wasteland-like clearing from before. His eyes glanced to his calm horse a couple hundred steps away with temptation, but his resolve took hold and held him firm. He planted both feet on the level ground and faced the treeline, ready to fight. The tree spirit silently emerged from the shadows.
Behind it, giant rocks continued to float. It had barely made a dent in its vast pool of ammunition. Black vines seeped out of the shadows as well but seemed to slow under the bright noon sunlight, “Fell for it.” Arthur remarked with a large grin. The tree spirit stepped further out into the mid-day sunlight.
“Should have kept to the shadows little spirit.” Caledfwlch boomed as her pure white blade glistened in the peak sunlight. As if a direct response, the sun itself glistened back. Caledfwlch was no mere legendary blade. She was a legend even amongst her own kind. A blade forged from the first sunbeams to ever grace this world, shaped and warped by the heat of the Dragon God’s breath and fashioned into a blade beyond comparison. Other legendary blades quivered in her shadow, “With The Sun.” She chanted. Her magical power hummed a new tune as the flow of her magic began to twist and warp, “Blinding Light.” She chanted. At her words, her own blade set itself ablaze. Yet this was no regular fire. It was pure white and burned as hot as the sun itself.
The tree spirit flicked its wrist, ordering three giant rocks to bare down on Arthur’s position. This time, Arthur stubbornly held his ground with a confident smirk. Three clean slices left the rocks perfectly cut in too, the heat of Caledfwlch’s blade made them seem like globs of thin butter. Black vines were quick to pick up the slack. They pounced from unseen angles, yet as they got close enough to Caledfwlch’s blazing light, they themselves set ablaze with the same pure white flames.
“Afraid Radiant damage is even more spicy than Light damage to your darkness.” Arthur boasted as he began to step forwards towards the tree spirit. The spirit glanced upwards at the mid-day sun, then at Caledfwlch’s blade. The two objects were one and the same. Arthur watched as it connected the dots, then turned to flee back into the shadows of the wood beyond the treeline, “Oh no you don’t.”
“Time Lock!” Caledfwlch chanted. An instant later, and the next thing the tree spirit knew, it had Caledfwlch’s radiant flames piercing one of its eye sockets. Its entire body set ablaze with the radiant flames and turned to ash in under a second.
“One down, seven to go.” Arthur muttered as he gracefully put Caledfwlch back into her scabbard. Her flames vanished as she comfortably released her effects.
“We’re not far off Arthur. Two or three more, and we’ll have done it.” She reported. Arthur’s left hand calmly pulled out a small glass vial from his belt. He raised it to his mouth and expertly finished the blue; magically shimmering liquid held within in a single gulp.
“Aye. The maximum level.” Arthur muttered as he eyed the shadows of the forest ahead, “One week left until my one hundredth birthday.” He reminded her as he stowed the empty vial back into a pouch on his belt, “Either we achieve our goal here and now, or we fail… and I break my promise.”
“Are you certain you want to challenge the rest? They are dangerous foes despite our power.” Caledfwlch warned.
“I’d rather die trying to keep my word than go out with a whimper running from time itself.” Arthur firmly answered. One foot in front of the other, the old man walked over the threshold of the treeline, back towards the shrine, back into the shadows.
***
The outskirts of Freedom were surrounded by a subtle magic far too well hidden for most mages to even notice, yet this did little to diminish its power. It certainly wasn’t completely detection proof. Amy could sense it like any other magic in this world, although she was rather accustomed to the feeling of her father’s magic. Directly ahead of her, an invisible totem of magical construct. Its physical presence hidden by the same effect that her father used to freely walk unnoticed. Invisible was probably the wrong word for it, the totem was certainly visible in the technical sense, but no one’s eyes would wish to look upon it. Any regular person would completely miss its presence without even noticing their vision being directed away from it. Amy wasn’t exactly immune to this effect either, but her father’s blood ran thick through her veins. With enough focus, she could overcome the irritating effect. The totem itself was small, barely the size of a small stool. A static automatic spell caster not too dissimilar from a magical staff. It was able to cast spells without instruction from its summoner, but it lacked any means of reasonable intelligence. The specific totem before her was a defence totem. Its purpose was relatively simple. When it detected a threat, it would cast barrier magic. Many of these were placed around Freedom’s edges to passively keep the place safe even without the presence of her parents.
She shifted the heavy, overstuffed pack on her back in an attempt to make the weight more comfortable. It didn’t seem to help much. Her thin Elven bones weren’t ideal for carrying such a heavy pack. To add to the matter, she was a mage. Her strength hadn’t exactly increased that much from her experiences in this world. Amy quietly cursed to herself for her own weakness. Anything that didn’t involve intelligence and magic was going to be an uphill struggle simply because of her early choices in life. Perhaps if she’d learnt a spell able to grant her vast strength, or reduce the weight of her pack, but… her father had made a good point. She’d spent four years studying the art of magic and had barely anything to show for it, despite her vast pool of mana. As far as the instructors could tell, she had zero magical talent. Granted that had been because she’d had to supress her powers so much, but she’d failed to cast anything other than Light Magic.
She eyed the totem once more. The mark of the border between Freedom and the rest of the world. She’d barely ventured out other than to Oak. There was an entire world out there she’d yet to explore, an entire world of magic and wonder. She pushed forwards, struggling with the weight for every step she took. Her feet stopped just shy of the border as her long, Elven ear’s twitched slightly.
“That determined to learn magic, are we?” Her mother’s voice spoke up from beside her. She turned in surprise and nearly fell backwards from the weight of her pack. Cathie gently grabbed one strap of the pack to catch her mid fall. Her single arm casually held the weight of the pack and Amy herself without any visual indication of strain or struggle. A light tug, and Amy was pulled back onto her feet.
“I…” She shamefully muttered under the intimidating gaze of her mother. She had always been a father’s girl after all. Cathie had little interest in magic as far as she could tell and tended to respect strength. Had things not gotten so complicated between them, Amy was sure Amelia would be her favourite daughter without any hope of competition.
“I understand the desire for freedom Amy.” Cathie calmly sighed as she neatly straightened Amy’s hair, which had fallen out of place during her stumble, “As I also understand your father’s desire to keep you safe.” She reminded her.
“There will always be a danger in this world mother.” Amy cautiously argued. She’d never really gotten into a conflict with her mother before. Amelia had always sheltered her from such a thing when they’d been children, but she’d seen the consequences her elder sister incurred from clashing her inherent stubbornness against Cathie’s, “Dad can’t keep me locked up like a princess forever.”
“True.” Cathie rather quickly conceded. Amy double blinked. She expected more resistance. Cathie was normally one to back her husband’s decisions. It was certainly hard to argue with a God after all, “Recent events have certainly got your father playing cautious, but outright rejecting his concerns isn’t a smart move despite his overcorrections.”
“I don’t want to be some common house-wife mother.” Amy again cautiously stood her ground. Incuring the wrath of her mother’s stubbornness was indeed a risk, but Amy had a stubbornness of her own to temper, “I want to change this world for the better. I want to learn magic to shape the future of this world.” Cathie remained oddly silent as she considered Amy’s words. She released her grip on the strap of Amy’s pack.
“If that is true, I’ll not stand in the way of such dreams.” She spoke as she took a step back from her daughter and glanced at the world beyond the border of Freedom. Forest as far as the eye could see. Amy too turned to the world beyond the border. With a stride of newfound confidence, she raised her foot and moved it over the threshold, “Although, I’d have thought you would want to learn magic from your father, of all people.” Her mother added purposefully as she was mid-step. Amy halted her step, placed it back on the Freedom side of the border, and turned back to her mother.
“Father doesn’t want to teach me magic. He’s too afraid of what I might become.” She quickly pointed out, with less caution and more frustration. Cathie smiled at the untampered confidence of her own daughter directly to her face. Her middle child found confidence in facts others couldn’t deny.
“For now.” Cathie responded, “But that’s not guaranteed to remain true, especially with my input.” She added.
“I…” Amy stammered. She hadn’t expected her mother to be so supportive of something so deeply tied to magic of all things. Her gaze shifted back to the world beyond the border of Freedom, “Do you really think you can convince him?”
“All I can say for sure, is that you won’t find out by venturing out there.” Cathie pointed out. Amy’s eyes narrowed. She’d underestimated her mother’s tactics. She’d expected her to resort to force, but she’d purposely chosen to approach this like her father would. It was certainly odd hearing words twisted into sound reason from her mother. It had caught her completely off guard, which seemed to only intensify its effect. Amy sighed. She let the heavy pack slide off her shoulders and onto the floor.
“Fine…” She muttered, “I’ll stay… for now.” She relented.
“Good girl.” Cathie praised as she easily picked the pack up with a single hand. They both turned away from the border and began to walk back towards civilisation, “I know life can be frustrating at times Amy, but we all have our part to play in this world. Your father is no exception to this, and neither are you. I have good faith your future will be bright and rewarding. All I ask is for patience.”
“Yes mother.” She sighed, but as they continued to walk in silence, she began to take in her mother’s words properly. They all had a part to play, but she hadn’t figured hers out yet. Was that why she desired to run? Why she desired to learn? She gave her mother a quick glance. A deep, oddly surprising wisdom glistened within her blood-red eyes and motherly smile. Perhaps Cathie knew more than she realised about her internal struggle.
***
The comparably moist, thick, cold air was something of a shock as the four beings exploded back into the physical space of the Gameworld. The wasteland clearing this battle had previously been now took place as the theatre a second time. The three admins cautiously stared at their single foe. A corrupted tree spirit wielding vast tendrils of pitch-black vines boosted by a black aura of a Dragon Sword. The black aura itself so powerful that it punctured cracks in the very code of the Gameworld itself. Staff’s eyes glanced sideways as his senses suddenly picked up something new. A nearby nexus of magical power being used to channel and transmit. The source of the extra magic being channelled to their foe.
“Going high!” Axe’s bellowing voice ordered. Staff’s eyes narrowed. The nexus was a target he’d like to take care of, but right now their strategy required his focus on the main threat. The ancient, corrupted tree spirit tilted its head as it considered Axe’s order. The last time he’d used such phrasing; the admins had tricked it with a series of flashes to fake out who would strike the critical blow. It watched as again, Axe charged headfirst towards it. Its gaze shifted off the melee focused admin to instead search for Dracona. Sure enough, it spotted the Demon admin repositioning by following the treeline border of the clearing. She was trying to flank or get out of its vision for a surprise flash to catch it off guard. Its Dragon Sword would make easy work of Axe’s powerful weapon and Staff’s ranged magic. Dracona was the admin to be cautious of. Her blows were hard to heal from and dealt a concerning level of physical bludgeoning damage simply from her size and strength. Her fire capabilities were far less of a concern thanks to its resistances, but it had not gained the same level of protection to such physical and brute force attacks. For now, it had been lucky enough to have a high level and health pool to tank the shots, but against three admins… tanking wasn’t an effective strategy. The tree spirit aimed its blade towards Zoie.
“Beam.” It chanted. A beam of Light Magic tore through the air to hit a stone wall that had quickly formed to block the attack. The tree spirit turned its attention to Staff. He’d chosen to wield Earth Magic instead of negating its Beam spell. The timing had been perfect for Staff to utilise such powerful Counter Magic. Was he perhaps afraid the Dragon Sword could somehow absorb the spell, or was he saving it to negate the inherent ability of its blade when it collided with Axe’s weapon? It listened closely as Axe’s weapon collided with its Dragon Sword. No tricky switches, no spells cast. Dracona had been nothing but a distraction. Did that mean Axe was the true threat of their strategy? It watched as yet again, the powerful runes of Axe’s weapon fizzled and vanished, drained by the power of the Dragon Sword. Staff remained silent, simply watching the exchange despite having the power to prevent it.
Something wasn’t right here. It pulled its weapon away from the clash and backed up from the Dwarven admin a few paces. It then glanced at its Dragon Blade. It had gotten heavier. Not during the clash, but when it had activated the Beam spell. It watched as Axe’s giant war-axe liquified and reforged itself with the very same runes as before. Again, he closed the distance without any concern or regard for the power of the Dragon Sword.
“Accelerate!” Staff’s voice chanted. Suddenly, Axe’s movements became blindingly fast. His weapon purposefully clashed with the Dragon Sword despite the tree spirit not even having the chance to block. The Dwarf was purposefully aiming for the troublesome blade. Again, the many runes drained into the blade. The war-axe reforged with the same accelerated speed only for Axe to again purposefully strike his weapon against the Dragon Sword. Again, again, and again. Each time the runes were absorbed and consumed, each time the weapon was reforged to bring the runes back to life. Strike after strike. So fast that if he wished, the Dwarf could have delt many powerful blows to the tree spirit itself. Finaly, it turned its vines upon Axe himself. With him so close, their manoeuvrability was rather limited, but something needed to change quickly. The admins had something tricky planned for sure, a means of countering the Dragon Sword perhaps. Axe instantly flashed away the second the vines came close. He reappeared beside Staff and again reforged his weapon.
“Got somewhere else to be?” Axe quietly growled as he noticed Staff’s eyes once again slip from their enemy to the forest beyond. Staff remained silent for a few seconds as he slowly turned his attention back to the tree spirit.
“No… someone else is handling it.”
***
A blink of blinding radiance, and one of the remaining seven corrupted tree spirits standing in a circle around the wooden shrine, around the Dragon Sword, ignited into a blaze of pure white flames. Arthur tore through the forest at full pace, Caledfwlch at full heat and primed to strike yet again as he brought his sudden charge to bare against the next in the circle.
The newly targeted tree spirit broke free from its channelling stance and vanished into the shadows barely in time to avoid Arthur’s full-on slash. Sweat already covering his wrinkled brow, Arthur gave no moment of hesitation as he immediately swapped target to the next in line. The third turned his way with time to spare as he prepared his next strike.
“Compact.” The tree spirit chanted. It’s bark armour and black vines turned to stone. Caledfwlch’s blade simply did not care. It calved through the rock and tore deep into the tree spirit’s now vulnerable internals. A flare of heat, and the tree spirit joined the other as a pile of ash. Finally, Arthur’s momentum subsided. He regained his balance and turned to watch as the remaining four tree spirits remained in place, channelling their power. He again moved to strike, but his senses suddenly blurted an urgent alert.
A full on twenty-metre-high rock landslide slammed into him before the veteran warrior could react. Trees were cut down like matchsticks against a sharpened blade, as Arthur was harshly slammed against rock after rock before coming to an ungraceful stop by slamming into a half damaged thick tree trunk. He slowly got back onto his feet and spat fresh blood out of his mouth as he took in the sight of the straight line calved out of the forest. That… was the carnage of a corrupted tree spirit he’d been expecting. The one that had run before emerged from the shadows of the trees to now stand before him. Arthur slumped a little as he nursed his clearly bruised chest. Even a healthy man would have taken a pummelling from that direct hit, and Arthur was far from his prime. His old body as brittle as chalk. His dented armour now had two or three fresh punctures leaking fresh blood too.
“Well fuck.” Arthur cursed as he took in his own state. He’d rolled the dice more than any other.
***
Staff let out a slight smile. Someone had disrupted the connection. Not fully, but enough to be noticeable. The ancient, corrupted tree spirit’s power waned for a small moment. The cracks in the Gameworld code quivered and destabilised. Not enough for even him to capitalise, but enough for someone greater.
***
Within the black void, the golden orb’s light surged with purpose.
“Disruption to threat detected. Within limit. Executing emergency containment procedure.” It reported as the black void that surrounded it suddenly became something more. The orb itself materialised within the wasteland clearing. Between the admins and the corrupted tree spirit, “Prioritizing capacity. Focusing all processing on containment.” It reported.
***
Cathie double blinked or at least tried to. Her eyelids slowly closed and opened at a notably slower speed than was normal. She was casually walking down the main street of Freedom. Fellow Elven villagers seemed to slow their pace as her own body seemed too forcibly slow her own. Birds flapped their wings at impossibly slow speeds to still be capable of flight. Her every motion, even her breath, was forcibly brought to a snail’s pace. She watched with great concern as the others on the street’s expressions turned to confusion as well. This wasn’t just affecting her. Everything but her own thoughts and feelings had become unchangeably slow.
***
“Minimal disruption to Gameworld functions reported.” The golden orb spoke, “Mirror dimension!” It chanted. Within the wasteland clearing holding the battle between Gods and Monster, the very world itself seemed to shatter around them all. The clearing now its own space, surrounded by the black void and nothing else. Within this new space, the golden orb remained, as well as the ancient tree spirit, and one God of the orb’s own choosing, “Maximum Elven Magic simulation achieved. Admin Staff, my God of Destruction… END THIS.” The orb ordered with a voice that tore through the separated dimension.
“With pleasure.” Staff whispered as he straightened himself out and turned his attention solely towards the ancient, corrupted tree spirit, “Nebular.”
***
As Arthur prepared for the end, suddenly he found his breath slow of pace. Blood spilled slower than he was used to, his limbs moved slower too. The incoming black vines ready to shred him to pieces now moved at a snail’s pace as well. His veteran’s instincts kicked in. He knew not the cause, but enough time had been bought to unleash Caledfwlch’s best move.
“Time lock!” Caledfwlch desperately chanted in a slowed voice. Good, clearly her mind was moving as fast as his own compared to the rest of the world. Why had his thoughts of all things been spared this time warping effect? He pushed such a question aside. He was still as slow as a snail, but his enemy was now frozen completely in place. A painfully slow swing, and Caledfwlch’s blade sliced the corrupted tree spirit in half. It’s sharp edge having no trouble cutting despite the slow speed. The creature ignited into a boiling cloud of radiant flames in slow motion. Arthur watched with curiosity as the creature burnt up before him in explicitly slow detail. As the ashes began to fall, suddenly everything returned to normal.
“The fuck was that?” Arthur painfully huffed as he barely remained standing from the shock. The pain from his wounds jolted his senses as they too returned to normal speed. Yet, before anything more could be said, Arthur’s wrinkled skin suddenly flashed a blinding white light. A deafening boom, and Arthur suddenly felt much, much better.
“Arthur… we did it.” Caledfwlch announced. Arthur’s eyes widened. He placed her back in her scabbard, then quickly tore off his gauntlets to examine the bare skin of his hands.
Not a wrinkle to be found. He scanned the torn ground surrounding him. A small scrap of metal from his armour caught his eye. He picked it up and examined his own reflection. Staring back at him, was not the old man he was so used to seeing in his reflection. Instead, he was looking upon a young man in his early twenties at most. Thick brown hair, unblemished young cheeks and pearl white teeth. He dropped the metal scrap in disbelief.
“We… did it.” He muttered to himself. Finally, after almost one hundred years. The maximum level possible for someone to obtain.
Before the man could even properly celebrate, a violent flash of bright light caught him completely off guard. Admin Staff’s eyes glared the man down, before shifting to note the pile of ash at his feet. A second flash of bright light caught Arthur equally off guard.
“You sure it was here?” Axe asked his fellow admin as his own beady eyes fell upon Arthur.
“Certain.” Staff simply spoke as his gaze turned back to Arthur, “You were the one to disrupt the magical nexus, yes?” He instantly began to interrogate. Arthur calmly composed himself. His long life had certainly been eventful, but he’d not ever had the grace of being within the presence of an admin until this very moment. He held himself firm but respectful.
“I was.” He calmly admitted to the God before him, “I slew the beasts, or as many of them as I could.” As he finished his words, a third flash blinded him for a second as Dracona casually appeared before him.
“Nexus is clear.” She sighed, “You were right, they were channelling magical power through another Dragon Sword.” She revealed as she handed Staff a metal box drenched in Elven magical seals and Dwarven runes so complex that Arthur stood no chance of deciphering them. Staff tucked the box under his left arm, just underneath a second metal box of the exact same design and make also tucked under the same arm.
“Your name, Avalonian warrior.” Staff demanded.
“Arthur Pendragon.” Arthur answered without hesitation. Staff seemed to consider the name for a few short moments.
“Well Pendragon, you just unknowingly helped save the world.” Staff revealed to the man. A snap of his fingers, and the two boxes under his arm vanished in another flash, “Guess we should be off.”
“If I may, Admin Staff.” Arthur spoke up. Axe and Dracona flashed away as Staff raised an eyebrow at Arthur, “A question for my efforts, perhaps?” Staff’s eyes seemed to focus intently on the man. It was only then that they widened with realisation.
“You’ve achieved the maximum level.” He muttered as he took a step closer to fully examine the man before him, “Now that’s certainly a first. Just how old are you really?”
“My hundredth birthday is but one week away.” Arthur answered him.
“You have piqued my interest, mortal.” His voice muttered in a tone that sent shivers down Arthur’s new, younger spine, “Ask your question.”
“I am under orders from the church to hunt a magician known as Sam the Wise.” Arthur blatantly revealed. He watched with some surprise as that name seemed to turn Staff’s curious look into a deadly serious glare, “I ask if you are familiar with such a man, and if so, what kind of man he truly is?”
“You question the intentions of your bounty target?” Staff asked him.
“I am not blind to the church’s corruption and hypocrisies.” Arthur revealed. Staff quietly considered Arthur’s response.
“You ask me this question because you believe the mage in question is on par with Merlin the Wise, a mage famous for earning my respect?”
“If the rumours are to be believed, yes.” Staff straightened himself out.
“Sam Thomson is a man of conviction. Likely the reason he’s made so many enemies of late.” Staff answered, “But he fights for his family, for the betterment of this world, and for the destruction of those who have turned to malicious greed.”
“Then I have no reason to carry out my orders.” Arthur sighed. He’d suspected as much. The church had been far too desperate for his liking.
“You appear to wield considerable power, Pendragon. It has been a long time, Caledfwlch.” Staff spoke, now addressing Arthur’s blade directly.
“Does it surprise you I find this wielder worthy of my power?” Caledfwlch casually responded to the God’s remark.
“Perhaps you and Mr Thomson are not so different. I see powerful resolve in those eyes, and the might and will to wield it to better this world.” He addressed to Arthur, “I hear he last settled in the town of Freedom some twenty years ago. Should you wish to consult such a man directly.” With that, a final flash of light announced Staff’s departure.
***
Staff casually appeared with a light flash of light within his shared bedroom. The master bedroom of Cathie’s house had certainly become livelier than its bare state twenty years ago. Vast wardrobes and draws stacked with clothes and personal items belonging not just to the admin, but to Cathie as well. Cathie herself was sat on the bed with a scroll unravelled before her, yet she slowly began to roll it up as her attention quickly fell on her husband.
“I take it all is good?” She asked.
“How unnoticed was the disruption?” He asked in response, clearly aware she’d known something had occurred.
“Most are aware something happened. A few have started theorising its some powerful magic or shared hallucination.” She answered, “But it was more than that, wasn’t it?”
“We came across something dangerous.” Staff revealed, “A dragon sword in the hands of a very old, very clever ancient tree spirit.”
“A troubling thought such a thing could have been made a reality.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Staff sighed, “But it has been dealt with, how are the kids?”
“Leia is being her usual self.” Cathie muttered as she turned her attention back to the scroll in her hands, “But we need to talk about Amy.” She added. Staff again sighed.
“She’s been begging to go back to that school again, isn’t she?” He grumbled.
“No. She wants to learn from you instead.” Cathie bluntly revealed. Staff scoffed.
“I’ll not be responsible for creating one of the most powerful mages in the history of this world.”
“It’s a bit late for that, is it not?” Cathie pointed out, “Amy will learn magic one way or another, that girl inherited far too much of my stubbornness to give up on such a venture. Is it not better she learns restraint from you?” She pressed. Staff remained silent, “Before she gets herself into more trouble?”
“If Amy’s magic becomes anywhere close to usable, the chances of Him finding out about our children just becomes too high. Too many things can go wrong. I won’t risk the safety of this family for her ambitions.” Cathie dropped the scroll beside her on the bed, then got up onto her feet and walked over to her husband.
“Do you trust your daughter?” She asked him out of the blue. Staff double blinked.
“Of course I do.” He answered.
“Doesn’t sound like it.” Cathie pointed out, “Amy’s ambitions aren’t to gain unimaginable power for the sake of power. She wants to help shape this world. She wants to take after her father.” Cathie explained, “That kind of drive can’t be snuffed out, not by her father, not by a God either. Have faith in her, and she will forever have faith in you.”
***
Amy silently and obediently followed her father down the staircase of Cathie’s house, into the front living room. It was rare indeed her father felt the need to summon her directly for a talk. She quietly swallowed. His silent, stoic nature made it clear. This would be a serious conversation about her future. She closed her eyes and prayed that her mother had kept to her word. If anyone had the means of getting through her father’s overprotective, overcautious stubbornness, it was her.
Staff came to a sudden stop beside the wall underneath the staircase that opened up into the room. He placed a hand on the wooden wall. Magic flared to life. Amy’s eyes widened as she felt the power of her father’s magic. A powerful magical seal hidden right under her nose that she’d never sensed even slightly. She counted the twenty layers of magical circles that rotated their otherworldly symbols like a complex magical lock until they snapped into a particular sequence.
“What language is that?” She asked, cautious to trigger the looming conversation between them.
“English.” Staff answered, yet he might as well not have. Such a name hadn’t crossed her ears before throughout her many studies. The magical seal vanished, and the wall seamlessly deconstructed itself. An open stairwell that led down into what she assumed was some kind of secret basement. An entire secret floor of her childhood house. How long had it been there? What was down there?
“Does mother know about this?” She questioned as she peered down into the looming dark passageway to try and spy what was down there. Her eyes failed to find anything but darkness.
“No.” Staff simply answered before taking a step forwards. He continued down the well-crafted stone stairway. While the shapes and design were rather different, Amy somehow felt something familiar about the stone that now surrounded her as she obediently followed her father’s footsteps.
There was magic in this stonework. Not just a simple glistening presence either, it was flowing as gracefully as blood flowed through her own veins. She brushed her finger against the stone as she walked. The magic reacted in kind, as if she’d lightly dipped her fingertip into a gentle stream. It nuzzled and tickled as it sensed her own magic within. So much power in something so trivial, and it had been underneath her for probably a majority of her life without her being the wiser. Amy’s eyes focused ahead; on the back of her father as they both continued deeper into the darkness.
She knew better than most what he was capable of. She’d felt his magical power a number of times, and while it was always at a scale that outright terrified her to her core, now she wasn’t even certain if that was the truth, or the single drop leaking through a curtain holding back the ocean. If he was capable of hiding such free-flowing magic so casually, so effectively, so consistently, then could she trust anything her magical senses were telling her about her father? Suddenly the light from behind began to quickly fade. Amy turned to witness the wall behind reconstruct itself, sealing them down wherever they were headed.
“We aren’t trapped down here, right?” She tentatively asked as she turned back to her father. Staff seemed to ignore her words completely as he continued further down. She hesitated slightly as a mild sense of claustrophobia began to nag at her, in the corners of her own mind. She took a big, confident breath, and pushed on.
The stairway opened up to a large room roughly two stories in hight and lit up by what Amy could only guess was some kind of fireless lamp that hung from the ceiling. She couldn’t sense any meaningful magic from it, nor could she see smoke from a flame. Her eyes were quickly drawn from the odd lighting fixture as her magical senses got one hell of a wakeup call. She found herself drawn to the walls of the room. Massive, two-story high bookshelves that required ladders to fully access, took up every wall that now surrounded her other than the one dead ahead.
Books. Bound, hardcover books. An item already pricy within the Gameworld even blank and empty. These books were far from empty. Like the stone walls, they were saturated in magic. Individual and wildly varying in power, a far different pattern than the magic that flowed through the walls. Some of the hardback spines felt less like books, and more like her father’s staff, a relic of considerable magical power that felt like it was somehow staring back at you whenever one looked at it, “Magical tomes?” She asked as she turned back to her father, who was patiently stood on the other end of the room to her.
“Some.” Staff vaguely answered as he pulled a chair from a large desk pressed against the furthest wall from her. He slowly sat down and oddly winced as he did so. Amy suddenly got an unnerving sense of unease as she watched her father struggle to make himself comfortable in his seat. Her senses slowly became aware of magical power faintly surrounding the man, but not in the way she was used too. It was in an odd form she’d never sensed before.
Quickly, her questions were answered. The magic surrounding Staff shattered like glass. Amy gasped at the sight before her.
Her father remained sat in the chair before her, but not as the majestic, divine being she’d gotten accustomed too. Not even the familiar disguise of Sam Thomson was before her. Staff sat, blood dripping from his left hand and right shoulder. Burns, bruises and small lashes coving his flesh from head to toe. Deep holes puncturing his body and leaking blood like little crimson waterfalls. The man before her was no God, but a beaten, hurt man seemingly on the verge of death, “This… is the price I must sometimes pay to keep the world as it is.” Staff firmly spoke. A light green aura gently wrapped around him as a particular book suddenly shot out of one of the bookshelves and into his awaiting hand, “To change things for the better, an even higher cost will fall on your shoulders.” He added as he opened the magical book with a beautiful illustration of a flower on its cover. A book of healing magic. Magical spells began to slowly flow over his skin. His wounds slowly began to heal, “This is the future you claim to have chosen for yourself.” He continued as his eyes looked up from the book and focused on Amy, “Are you afraid?”
“Yes.” Amy answered truthfully. Her father, a God of this world. A figure she’d grown up knowing to be as immortal, as unkillable as a mountain. A fixture of this world. An absolute. A constant she’d never be without. To see such a central figure of her own life reduced to such a bloody, horrific state… It was beyond thought, yet before her here and now. She could feel her very self on the verge of collapse. Implications and questions that made her want to scream and run. His death wasn’t something she’d ever considered possible. Until now she’d never seen so much as a papercut upon his flesh. She swallowed, her own body now visibly shaking from the sight, but she steadied herself. She summoned her own resolve, “But it does not change my mind.” She answered his unspoken question. Staff briefly let slip a proud smirk before his face returned to a cold, neutral glare. He would not scare her away from her desire to shape this world for the better.
“Good.” Staff simply muttered as he struggled back onto his feet. He nearly slipped, prompting Amy to help catch her old man and support his weight by wrapping his left arm over her shoulders. The hight difference made the save a little precarious, but she held him steady and kept him on his own two feet.
“Will you be all right father?” She asked, deep concern in her voice.
“Nothing a spot of magic won’t fix.” Staff winced as, with Amy’s support, he managed to straighten himself out. Amy’s eyes now found themselves drawn to the healing book that had fallen to the floor during the slip.
“Dad… I thought you knew everything there was to know about magic.” She spoke up, “So why consult a healing book?”
“A long story, for another time.”