Chapter 5
“I did it,” whispered Harald, heart racing, chest expanding with elation. He opened his eyes to stare at Brauxis. “I’ve collapsed my auras into one.”
The Emanation chuckled, though for the first time he sounded uneasy. “So I see! And feel. A noticeable uptick in your potency. Yes. Quite… quite formidable, Young Darrowdelve!”
Harald rose to his feet. The Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant suffused the chamber. He felt the bleak corona burning about his brow, a mockery of an angel’s halo. It sparked and spat and surged and swirled, his will, the abyss, made manifest.
But now.
The chamber felt different. It felt his.
His authority flooded the space, the air darkened and given a purple tint, that gelid, underwater feel all the more tangible than before.
But the difference was categorical, now.
Where before his auras had overlapped each other, supported and amplified each other’s powers, now there was but the one, and it was supreme.
The Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant.
Cold dread emanated from him like tendrils of enervating ice.
Reality warped. He could vaguely intuit how time was unsteady around him, shifting like sand on a windblown desert, while he remained tightly focused, a nexus of precision.
Those who would oppose him, he sensed, would have to wade through dilations and contractions in time—minute, varying—that would trip them up, cause them to react too quickly, or dangerously delay them.
But above and beyond that, he felt how the abyss was present, a continuous, silent roar that would amplify his every move, his every power, his every strike.
The chamber and all that lay within his aura was now his. He had laid claim to all in his aura and earned dominion.
Brauxis lowered his feet to the ground and stood. Abruptly, his halo burned brightly, his Corona of Judgment flaring bright.
But where before it had annihilated Harald’s darkness, bleached it utterly and inured the Emanation from Harald’s will, now it merely pushed the purple-tinted darkness back, clearing a radius some four yards wide.
Within that space the Emanation’s will burned brightly—but beyond it, Harald could sense his own dominion persisting.
“Impressive indeed,” called the angel, his heartiness not quite convincing. “I can sense a consolidation. Your aura has grown strong.”
Harald’s lips peeled back from his teeth as he focused his will upon the angel. The darkness that flooded the chamber coalesced around the halo’s light, and he willed it to smother Brauxis’ completely.
The Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant responded.
Slowly, but inexorably, the darkness closed about the Corona, which flared more brightly as more pressure was brought to bear.
Harald took a step forward, chin lowered and glared at the angel from under his lowered brows.
His sparking crown was burning with terrible grandeur, and he felt himself vast, powerful, lethal.
His four Thrones roared.
But Brauxis’ power yet lay beyond his ken.
The angel extended one palm, as if bidding him stop, and the halo atop his helm flashed.
A concussive wave of light cut through the oppressive darkness like a scythe through midnight weeds, and Harald felt his grip shatter; the Crown broke apart, and the proximity of the abyss fell away.
Harald let out a grunt as he felt the angel’s will like a blow to the sternum, and stepped back, hand going to his heart, choking out a cough.
“You forced me to impose myself!” boomed Brauxis, his halo returning to its normal brilliance.
“I must declare myself surprised! My battle instincts are roused. To sense such malice makes me itch to cut you down, Darrowdelve, but I know your heart to be true. Still! Most strange. To feel such evil about me, yet to restrain myself. Hmm!”
“Sorry.” Harald massaged the dull ache in his chest. “I got… carried away there.”
“Very impressive. And you are but Level 8! I shudder to think what puissance you shall manifest at higher levels. Verily, you shall be terrifying. But enough of that. Are you all right?”
“Fine.” Harald stood straight and banished his disappointment. Had he thought to overwhelm a Level 14 equivalent foe? Madness. And yet, for a second there…
“You have taken a great first step. It is said that the more powers you can consolidate, the greater the blessings earned as you ascend in levels. Examine your Abilities, Harald, and see if there are any other felicitous overlaps.”
“Sure.” Harald took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking along the same lines.
For example, my Abyssal Attunement empowers my weapons to drain my foes when I hit them, right?
And Demonic Edge is the ranged version of that attack, where I fling the abyss at distant enemies. Perhaps they could be combined?”
“Worth exploring,” agreed Brauxis, rising to hover cross-legged once more.
“And, well. Abyssal Grasp allows me to extend tendrils of pure void from the heart of the abyss to immobilize and drain enemies, while Shadow Dominion does the same thing to paralyze my enemies and force lesser foes to fight for me. Not that I’ve fought a lot of lesser foes, but the pair are very connected. ”
“Hmm!” rumbled Brauxis.
“And… then I’ve got my shadow-based powers.
Shadow Fortitude, obviously, which allows me to hide in darkness and feel no pain, along with Dark Vigor, which uses darkness to increase my fortitude.
Veil of Shadows allows me to move undetected in darkness, and then Umbral Aegis uses shadows to cloak me in actual armor. They’re all connected.”
“Four is a most excellent number to merge.”
“And!” Harald tried not to sound too excited. “Black Halo surrounds me with a great ring of slashing blades—”
“So I recall.”
“But can be used to empower my Tenebral Surge, which sends a blast out in all directions. Again, a lot of functional overlap.”
“If you can consolidate these powers into greater wholes, how many will that leave you with when all is said and done?”
Harald ran over the list. “That would bring me down from sixteen powers to eight.”
“Eight.” Brauxis seesawed his head. “Not bad. But there should be more. The lower you can make that number, the more rapid shall be your advancement.”
Harald sat and summoned his window. Stared at the remaining powers. “I’ll… I’ll think on it, for sure.”
“In the meantime, begin working on those shadow-based powers. That is your greatest consolidation and should result in a magnificent new ability.”
“Right.” Harald gave a sharp nod. “Shadow Fortitude, Dark Vigor, Umbral Aegis, and Veil of Shadows. I’ll begin right now.”
“Good! There is no time like the present.
* * *
Time passed.
Harald had expected to grow impatient with the process but instead found himself fascinated. Days were hard to measure in the halls of perpetual brightness, with only his room dimming to allow him to sleep.
His thoughts were perpetually bent toward the nature of his own powers, and only now did he begin to realize how malleable they were.
How mutable his own identity. From the beginning, he had thought himself nothing more than a passive recipient of the Fallen Angel’s gifts as warped by the Demon Seed, but now, with ever-growing excitement, he realized just how proactive he could be.
His gifts were malleable. He could bend and twist them, find common ground between his Actives and Passives, and mold them into greater, more lethal combinations.
All of it stemmed from his understanding of the abyss and how it expressed himself through his Thrones, through his Class, through his very self.
He still saw little of Sam and Nessa. When they did spend time together, it was to eat, to relax, to enjoy each other’s company—but not to discuss their individual journeys.
Something about this phase felt delicate, precious, even.
There was a purity to his intense meditations that caused him to shy away from sharing the process.
This was intensely personal, and so while he welcomed the company of his companions, he didn’t want to try and put his growing epiphanies into words.
They seemed much the same.
Days flowed into each other. Brauxis was an ever-optimistic and encouraging presence, who only demanded as payment to spend time on occasion with Shadowpaw.
Harald saw nothing of Alabenthos or the other trainers and denizens of the level.
Which suited him well. He walked in a daze, half-drenched in the very fabric of the abyss, his mind delving, ever delving into his very nature.
His next breakthrough came exactly where Brauxis had suggested it: with his shadow-based powers.
That darkness, shadow, and the abyss were key elements was obvious. But it took long days of dreaming and pondering to understand how they might mesh into one cohesive whole.
Seated in the stone cavern, chin lowered, eyes closed, Harald drifted on banks of night when the truth flowered within him.
Dark Vigor, Shadow Fortitude, Umbral Aegis, and Veil of Shadows didn’t simply bring him the benefits of shadow and absence. He wasn’t an individual who cloaked himself in external darkness. He was changed by the powers. Made strong, made immune to pain, given energy, given protection.
He was not separate. His idea of “Harald” was not distinct.
These powers. They emerged from within him.
The shadows were his own.
He was the darkness.
Each power was but a step in that realization.
Passive Ability Unlocked: Form of the Black Throne
Your flesh, shadow, and will have fused into a sovereign vessel of the abyss. Blows slip, pain dulls, and darkness gathers instinctively around and within you. Your body no longer fully abides by mortal limits.
+4 to Dexterity while activated+4 to Strength while activated+4 to Constitution while activated
Harald’s eyes snapped open. Excitement had him by the throat. Brauxis’ attention fell upon him, aroused by the angel’s own instinctive magical senses.
But Harald wasted no time. Exultant, he willed the new Passive into being and changed.