Chapter 19 #2
Harald closed his eyes and raised his face to the moon.
He cared not that Exeros watched him. That the Seraph was no doubt pleased that he’d taken Eclavistra’s bait.
The Seraph didn’t know him. Didn’t know the depths of his resolve.
With this power. With this heady, delirium-inducing power, he would change the face of the Celestial War.
He would rise higher, would realize a greater potential, would become a catalyst for angelic victory.
He closed his hands into fists and felt the abyss within him.
Its freezing void.
Its annihilating infinities.
But first he had to get into the dungeon.
With a sigh, he relinquished the five Thrones. The power drained away, leaving him weak and shivering, but he ignored his body. It clamored for comfort, for warmth, for pampering, but his mind was immune to its needs.
It would strengthen soon.
Turning, he picked a careful path back to the ridge.
His feet slipped a couple of times, forcing him to windmill his arms or bend down rapidly to steady himself with a palm on the tiles, but he gained the ridge and there stood, swaying, vertigo rising from his bubbling stomach, to survey all of Flutic.
From the depths he would rise.
Figures emerged from the ruptured tower below. Familiar outlines in shadow that became Nessa, Sam, and Eadwolf once they emerged into the moonlight.
“Harald!” Sam’s voice was thin in the wind. “There you are!”
Harald made his way down to them, sliding and treading carefully as he went. One misstep and he could tumble right off the roof. With his Constitution at 5, the fall would kill him.
“What happened to—” began Nessa, striding confidently up the slope as if walking on a grassy lawn.
Eadwolf put a hand on her shoulder, interrupting the question, and his eyes momentarily glowed metallic crimson, a flickerflash that was gone as quickly as it had come, the same power he’d used several times during their lesson back at Anna’s garden.
“What did she do to you?” the old warrior rasped.
Sam frowned at Eadwolf, then studied Harald with renewed intent. “I sense demonic influence… it’s different somehow, but… less? I can’t…”
“Harald?” Nessa eyed him in confusion. “Why are you walking as if you’re drunk?”
Harald reached them at last. “Sythryxa is dead. She was carrying a Legendary Artifact of Eclavistra’s. A Crown that Vic was going to use to control all of Flutic, a corrupted version of the Twilight Crown.”
“That’s saying something,” said Nessa. “Seeing as the original was already nightmarish.”
“Let him speak,” said Sam softly.
“Exeros studied the Artifact. Its limitation was actually a secondary power disguised as a drawback. If you equipped the Crown, it would feed on your levels and powers and stats instead of on the will and power of your bound Courtiers. But once sated, it would become an Endowment and act as a new Throne, one that sourced its power from Eclavistra herself.”
“No,” said Sam, putting her hand over her mouth. “Harald. You didn’t.”
“You fucking idiot,” hissed Nessa.
“I agree.” Eadwolf’s eyes were wide under his craggy brows. “You did what?”
“It’s done.” Harald failed to keep the harshness from his voice.
“I’m Level 1. My powers are gone. My stats consumed.
But I have the power of five Thrones now, and all the knowledge I possessed before.
More importantly, my existing Thrones have been augmented.
Or changed. Something. I don’t know how to explain it yet, but the sum total of their output is richer than it was.
The Crown has done something fundamental to my Cosmos, my connection to the Fallen Angel. ”
“Harald.” Sam’s face had grown pale. “You’ve opened a direct channel to Eclavistra?”
“I need you to trust me.” He could feel her slipping away, even though she wasn’t moving.
“I’ve made a wager. That I can outrun her corruption.
And if I’m wrong? Exeros over there will be only too delighted to claim my head.
And you’ve the Mote, Sam. I made this decision knowing that you could stop me if I… if I fail to keep my true north.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes.
“You bleeding idiot,” said Nessa tiredly. “This must have been Eclavistra’s plan all along. To rope you in. To corrupt you. To steal you out from under Vorakhar.”
Harald nodded. “I don’t deny it. But while she thought she was hooking a shark, she’s actually caught a monster. I’m going to burn my way down the dungeon right to her and use her power against her.”
“You can’t… you can’t keep doing this,” said Sam, all the pain in the world in her eyes. “You already had the Demon Seed, and now?”
Her misery aroused painful feelings in him, a raw sense of vulnerability and guilt he didn’t want to deal with, couldn’t deal with right now; she masked it in a flash of anger, and chopped at the air with one hand.
“It’s done. I’m going to the dungeon. Alone.
I’m going to work my way down the first levels.
I’m going to restore all that I’ve lost, and will meet you all in Alabenthos’ domain. ”
“Kársek won’t agree,” said Nessa. “If he doesn’t decide you’ve gone too far and lost your honor altogether.”
Harald considered. Tongued the inside of his cheek. “He’ll have to understand. But the proof will be in the deed, not my promises. When I arrive at the 33rd Level, he’ll see what I’ve become. If he thinks I need killing for my own sake, I’ll not argue.”
“The creature you could become might,” said Eadwolf. “You damned fool. Don’t you know your history? How many raiders have traded demonic favors for happy endings?”
“There’s always a first. And as I said, it’s done.” Harald stared at Nessa’s bleak expression, saw glimmers of anguish in the depths of her eyes, and then glanced at Sam, where he saw heartbreak and despair.
Harald closed his eyes to steady himself. “I’m going to the dungeon. All I ask is that you trust me. I know this looks bad. Like… madness. But my Ego is still 18, and will only grow higher when I equip my Artifacts.”
“You can’t,” said Nessa, tone dry. “Not if you want to level. You could kill a hundred thousand rats on the first level and not advance if the Scourge is doing all the work for you.”
“Not a problem,” said Harald, and smiled. The smile was cold, and he knew it lacked all comfort for the others, but again he felt the frisson of excitement. The delight of anticipation. “I’m not going to need it.”
“You mad idiot,” said Nessa, and in those words was fondness, loss, unshed tears and despair. “I guess we’d better escort you lest a child mugger stab you in the back and end your career before you get to the Dungeon Plaza.”
Eadwolf shook his head. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.”
Everyone froze.
There wasn’t an ounce of amusement in Eadwolf’s voice. It was a true question. The older man stood poised for violence.
Harald met that gaze and matched it. Stepped in closer so that they were but inches apart.
“You can. Obviously, I can’t stop you. And there’s a good chance you’d be doing the world a favor if you did.
But kill me now, and you slay me before the die has stopped rolling.
You’ll never know what I could have done.
How I might have turned out. The difference I could have made.
Instead, you’ll be guaranteeing that demons eventually win.
That the Fallen Angel falls to Silenthros or another arch demon.
That the angels are overthrown. And in time Flutic becomes a demon flesh pen and the staging ground for their world conquest.”
Eadwolf’s lips drew back from his teeth in a silent snarl.
“Go on. Ensure that future happens. Take responsibility for the end of the world. Because you sure as fuck aren’t going down into the dungeon to change anything, are you?
But I am. You let me go, you let the die be cast. Maybe I turn out rotten.
But maybe I do have the strength to overcome the corruption, the temptation, the horror.
And if that’s the case? I know. In my bones.
In the very depths of my soul that I’ll destroy Eclavistra, that I’ll raze her palace and places of power, that I’ll lead a bloody crusade against each and every arch demon and won’t rest until the Celestial War is finished and I’ve killed our every foe. ”
The night air ached between them. Eadwolf remained a split second from ending his life. The old man’s hands clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed.
But it was Sam who spoke next.
“And who will deal with you then? With what you’ll have become?”
Harald looked sidelong at her with a pained smile. “Why, you of course. If it comes to it. You have my Mote of Humility. Between you and Kársek and Exeros, I’ll not dare to step off the straight and true path.”
Sam didn’t smile.
“It’s done,” said Nessa harshly. “And you’re not going to kill him, Eadwolf. The moment is past. Come on, Harald. I’ll see you to the plaza. We’d best avoid Anna and Brianna and the rest while they’re busy interrogating Vic.”
“Vic’s alive?”
“We found him bound and gagged in a closet. We’ll talk as we go.” Nessa took a step that brought her abreast of the still trembling Eadwolf. “Unless you’re going to cause a problem?”
Eadwolf’s snarl deepened for a second, and then he passed a shaking hand over his face. “No,” he whispered at last. “Be gone. And may the angels have mercy on my soul.”
“You coming?” asked Harald, looking back at Sam as he followed Nessa down.
She didn’t respond. Nor did she move to follow.
It felt like a hooked chain was lodged in his heart, and each step tore at it, tore deeper and wrenched it out of his chest as he walked away from her.
It was only once he’d slipped into the ruptured tower that he realized she’d never told him what she was going to reveal in the avenue below before the battle.
But it was too late now.