Chapter 52 #2
“No,” he rasps, barely able to speak. Based on his slowed healing, I’d wager his spiritual energy is standing on its last leg—pun intended.
With both of us in wretched conditions, now it’s just a matter of who can muster enough strength to deliver the last blow.
Moe’s face is at the forefront of my mind as I will my legs to move. Blood continues to pour from my wounds, leaving a red trail in my wake.
Eragon’s eyes widen and for the first time, I see pure fear reflected in his expression. He drags himself back while he tries to gather some shadow. But they fail to respond to him—he has no more energy to control anything.
There’s only one way to end this—and ensure he dies for good.
I drive my hand through his chest, wrapping my fingers around his heart and squeezing until it explodes within my palm.
His body jerks violently. Blood spills over my wrist, hot and thick.
For one suspended second, we stare at one another, the disbelief still potent in his eyes. Then, the light fades from them and he slumps against me. I pull my arm back. He falls to the ground—the only sound in the now completely silent cathedral.
No one in the audience cheers, nor do they speak. They simply stare in shock at us—at the outcome of this battle that no one could have ever foreseen.
Eragon’s corpse begins to disintegrate before me, dissolving into ash and pale luminous particles. A few of them make their way toward me, sinking into my body.
I barely remain standing as this makeshift world begins to collapse. One blink and the obelisk stands before me, the results of the battle flickering in and out on its surface.
Winner: Nykander v’Kyro; +50 Ascension Points; Total Ascension Points: 609
Moe rushes towards me, jumping in my arms. All around us, the crowd starts dispersing, but not without making their disappointment known at the outcome of the battle—and at the loss of a lot of wagered tokens on my defeat.
“You did it. Oh, Nyk. You did it,” she repeats, tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy before. You’re alive… You’re fine…”
I open my mouth to speak, but I suddenly start coughing blood.
Moe’s eyes widen and she lets out a loud gasp. Grabbing my cheeks with both hands, she stares into my eyes as she bites her lip as hard as she can until she draws blood, then kisses me. Her blood immediately transfers to me, slowly filling me with fresh new energy.
Within moments, I am well enough to stand on my own two feet and my wounds have started closing.
“Better?” She whispers against my lips. I smile and press another kiss to her mouth.
“Much better.”
Someone clears their throat behind Moe. We both turn to look at Lis. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she shakes her head at our public display of affection. As she steps closer, her eyes lock on mine with a frightening intensity.
Then she says, “We need to talk.”
This time, instead of the empty fields at the edge of Aimaxion where people rarely dwell in, Lis invites us to her accommodation. It’s the first time since knowing her that she’s welcoming us into her home, and the moment we step inside it’s quite clear why.
This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in Aimaxion—so much so that our small, little room seems a shoe box in contrast.
As we enter, the floors are a polished black marble covered with thick, expensive rugs.
There’s a massive hearth in the main room and shelves of pristine books line the walls beside fine furniture and paintings.
The kitchen holds more food than I have seen in one place since arriving here, and upstairs the beds are piled with silk sheets and heavy blankets instead of the thin, worn fabric we inherited from the previous tenants.
She invites us to take a sit in the living room on a dark blue velvet sofa so plush it swallows us whole. Moe keeps running her hand over the material.
“I’ve never seen something so fine in my life,” she whispers to me.
“How many points do you need to get this?” I ask.
Lis uses her powers to quickly prepare a tray of food and tea, and places it in front of us.
“Nine hundred ninety-nine.”
“What?” I blink.
Moe, too, has stopped admiring the—rather sumptuous—sofa and is now gawking at Lis, too.
“Nine hundred ninety-nine? Then you’re just one point away from leaving.”
“Technically.” She shrugs. “Sometimes I’m less, sometimes more then immediately less. It depends on my mood and how many tokens I exchange my points for.”
“Why?” I frown.
She merely smiles. “I am waiting for the right time.”
She doesn’t say more than that, and it’s cue for us to not ask more.
“There is a protective barrier around us. No one can monitor us here, so you may speak freely.”
Grabbing a cup of tea, she gingerly brings it to her lips, takes a sip, then looks me dead in the eye.
“When were you born, Nykander?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has to do with everything and you know it. Especially after today’s display.”
I stare at her, speechless.
When I don’t answer, she continues. “Does Moe know?”
I shake my head. “No,” I whisper.
“Don’t you think it’s high time she did?”
“What’s happening? What are you two talking about?” Moe asks, glancing from Lis to me.
“Before we can discuss what occurred during today’s fight, we must first ascertain our baseline. In this case, Nykander’s birth date has anything to do with it.”
I look away, embarrassed.
Moe places her hand atop mine, giving me a soft nod.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I whisper. “It’s just that if you know… you might look upon me differently.”
“I could never look upon you differently, Nyk,” she murmurs in return.
I gulp down. “I was born during the eclipse of the two moons.”
Moe stares at me as if she can’t quite understand.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks, glancing tentatively at Lis.
“Only immortals would understand the gravity of it,” Lis starts. “The last time someone was born during the eclipse of the two moons, he almost destroyed the entirety of Tartareia.”
“… So?” Moe frowns.
“He is not the only one,” I explain. “Urteos was just the last person to be born during the eclipse. But there were others before him, too. And they all brought some type of disaster to Tartareia.”
“I still don’t see why that’s relevant.”
“Because there is a law in Tartareia that whenever an immortal is born during such an eclipse, he is to be put on a registry and be forbidden from ever cultivating. As you can imagine, without cultivation, the body cannot consume or store energy, thereby wasting away. This was the case for Nykander, too, was it not?”
“Yes.” I press my lips together.
“It is an offense punishable by death to instruct in cultivation anyone on the registry,” Lis continues.
“But that would mean you—” Moe points towards her, but she merely waves her hand.
“I do not care for such things so I do not count.”
That in itself is an odd thing to say, but I am so tuned to Moe’s reaction to this situation that I can’t pay attention to Lis—or, perhaps, I’ve stopped questioning things about her.
“All right, so it’s illegal for him to cultivate. But that’s only if someone catches him,” Moe quickly chimes in, putting on a smile. “No one has to know.”
“That will only take you so far,” Lis comments. “But we are not here to discuss that. As I said, the circumstances of his birth are merely the baseline.”
Both Moe and I frown at her words.
“What happened today,” she continues. “You awakened a second domain, did you not?”
“How… How did you know?”
Her lips curl up. “I know,” she states simply. “But no one else must know that.”
“Why?”
She places her teacup on the table before looking straight at me.
“Double domains are almost mythical, they are that rare. The last known person to have double domains was Urteos, and he supposedly died a madman.”
I blink. Her words awaken some memories. That book I retrieved as my first mission from Utopiya… What did it say about Urteos?
“Supposedly?” Moe echoes.
Lis’ eyes are still on me.
“I read once in a book that Urteos died at the hands of one of the Seven, because he advanced the same domain as that Primordial and he took note of him.”
“That is part of the story.” Lis notes. “Urteos had two domains: Shadow and Flame. Although he awakened both around the same time, he did not care much about the Flame domain and decided to only advance his Shadow one.”
More memories surface from that book.
“If you have two domains… You have to level up each domain separately.”
“Correct. With you as an example. Your shadow domain is around a level five but your new domain is only a level one.”
“Abyss,” I mutter. “That is my new domain.”
Moe’s mouth opens in awe as she whispers, “That’s so cool.”
Lis doesn’t have any reaction—she already somehow knew about it.
“Urteos decided to only advance his Shadow Domain, which, as you know, already has a Primordial. Each Domain may only have one Primordial, and once one reaches a far enough level, they become a threat to the title holder. Urteos was very close to becoming a Primordial himself, but the Shadow Primordial was never going to allow that to happen.”
“But aren’t the Primordials locked away in Tartarstasis?” Moe questions.
“They may not physically leave their prison, but that does not mean they cannot affect the outside world. Their power is not as potent, but they are ever-present,” Lis states cryptically.
“So,” Moe starts, “What you’re saying is that Nyk should avoid advancing too much for his Shadow Domain.”
“Yes. Exactly. Luckily for you, your new domain does not have a Primordial. But it is apparent that the Shadow Primordial does not like competition.”
“You seem to know a lot about the Primordials,” I note wryly.
“I have lived and seen a lot.”
“Then I have a question,” I say.
She juts her chin forward and tells me to speak.
“Shadow Domain, Abyss Domain. I’ve read some about them, but I’m not too certain about the differences since they both deal with a certain type of darkness.”
“It’s quite simple. You may look at it this way—with the addition of a third, similar one.”
My brows go up. Moe, too, is watching her intently as she continues to snack on the food tray.
“Shadow Domain’s main abilities pertain to imitation.
You can steal and use shadows, but not the original source.
Abyss Domain is related to energy and space.
In most textbooks, it is often named as the domain that gives rise to realms. The third one is Skia, the Nether Primordial’s domain, which pertains to darkness within beings.
While Abyss can create realms, Skia can create entire species. ”
“But the Nether and Light Primordials are gone, no?” Moe asks.
“Their descendants are not. House of Skia, in Aperion, is very much maintaining the legacy, though not even the Skia Supreme can reach a level at which he can create new species. His skills are stuck at matchmaking individuals to ensure their genetics can give rise to desirable abilities,” Lis adds drily.
“You know a lot about this.” I narrow my eyes. Since Tartareia is so closed off, there is very little information about Aperion, even less about there matrimonial habits.
She smiles. “I do.”
Once more, she does not expand on the how. But since she’s so generous with some information, I decide to ask more about my new domain.
“You said the Abyss Domain deals with energy. The books we read didn’t mention anything on that.”
“It is very simple. Have you not wondered how you were able to syphon energy from souls even in such a realm as Aimaxion, where there is a dearth of energy?”
“You…know?”
“I do.”
“But—”
“And if I know, others will, as well.”
“Others, who?”
She shrugs.
“No one else is able to do it, if you didn’t already realize. This realm is designed specifically for stagnation, so no one gets stronger, so everyone dies.”
Moe bites her lip, deep in thought. “Does this have something to do with whoever designed Aimaxion?”
Lis nods. “Correct. Only someone with an Abyss Domain could create a realm, just as only someone with this Domain could extract the energy of the souls with such exactitude.” She pauses. “This is why you must not reveal you have an Abyss Domain.”
If the Abyss Domain has such control over energy, then I wonder if those fractures I saw in Eragon’s shadows were…energy signatures?
“But why? Surely there would be others with this domain and—”
“It is a very rare domain. You are, in fact, lucky you did not have it before arriving here otherwise the system would have arranged for your immediate demise.”
“I don’t under—” My eyes widen.
“Good. You’re starting to make connection.”
It’s Moe who speaks next, arranging all my chaotic thoughts into a coherent sentence. “Whoever created this realm wants to become the Abyss Primordial.”
“Indeed. And he will eliminate anyone he thinks might be competition.”
“You know him?”
Lis doesn’t answer. “In a manner of speaking.”
“And the souls?” Moe interrupts. “Where do they go? Does this Abyss Domain holder consume all of them? Is that how he means to become the Primordial.”
I give her a satisfied nod—she always has the best questions.
“Yes and no. He is strong, but not that strong yet. Some of the souls power the system that runs Aimaxion. The rest…” she trails off. “The rest are harvested, as per the original purpose of this realm.”
“Harvested?” I frown.
“The wraith should have told you during orientation. If you die here, your soul is exterminated. That is because it is converted in energy.”
“For what purposes?” Moe asks.
“That is as much as I can say for now. But heed my warning, Nykander. No matter what, do not let anyone know you have a second domain, or that it is the Abyss Domain.”
“For how long? Forever?” Surely that’s a little extreme… I don’t think I can be careful and live in fear for all of eternity.”
Lis’s eyes flicker a pure white.
“Until the door to Tartareia closes.”