Chapter 35
Harald stared morosely at the golden mote. Exeros had retreated into his observer’s form after pronouncing his harsh judgment on Harald’s chances, his expression grown wroth at perhaps having said too much.
No matter.
The seed was planted.
There lay within Harald the ability to drain Eclavistra of her power.
To do unto her what he had done to the Thunder Lizard. But the difference in power between the two was everything. Could he contain so much power? Could the abyss drain such a terrible entity dry? And how to protect himself the moment she noticed his assault?
A memory came back to him: Sam and his sojourn to the 41st, cast there by Vorakhar to find their Classes, and where they’d faced the hollow white marble statue that had annihilated them again and again.
A monster of overwhelming power. And one which Eclavistra had later destroyed with a careless blast from her staff.
One blast.
Harald pursed his lips. There had to be a way. But he wasn’t seeing it yet. Time to return to his friends. Their wisdom was what he needed.
Slowly, methodically, Harald retraced his steps. Had the blue light that glowed from the walls grown dimmer? Perhaps he’d killed too many foes. Those few that remained, however, were clearly loath to intercept him.
He returned at last to the central hall in which his comrades rested, to find Nessa and Kársek asleep, Vic and Sam engaged in low conversation.
Shadowpaw and the golem had finally returned to his Cosmos, their stay outlasting his ability to keep them manifested, so that at his arrival both of his friends startled, hands darting to their weapons.
“Easy,” said Harald, raising his hands as he drew closer. “Just me.”
Vic made an expression of disgust. “Harry. What happened? You’re drenched in blue goo. Did you find a harem of genies and pull the short end of the stick?”
Sam went to say something, processed what Vic had just said, then turned to him with her own expression of disgust. “What?”
Despite everything, Harald laughed, the sound more a croak than anything else.
“I had a couple of big fights.” He was about to explain how the monsters bled blue, then realized, given how caked he was in gore, that that would hardly reassure them.
“I fell in a pool during one of them. But listen. How are the others?”
“I think they’re recovering,” said Sam. “Whatever happened to them was really bad. My Warden’s Pulse can’t help them.”
“It’s called a Soul Needle. I got hit by them, too. But my Well of Starless Dominion consumed them. Actually, I’ve got some big news to share. Something Exeros shared with me. You think we can wake them up? It’s kind of urgent.”
“Exeros and you were chatting?” asked Sam, disbelief obvious. “I thought he was waiting for you to slip up so he could lop off your head.”
Harald glanced back at the mote. “I think he still might be. But—yeah. We had a chat. I’d like to share it with you all.”
They carefully woke up their friends. Both Nessa and Kársek were groggy, but clearly the rest had helped to some degree—they reported that the Needles were gone, and that made all the difference.
“Perhaps you killed their owners,” said Nessa, leaning back against the wall. “Either way, thank you. That was… unpleasant. Went beyond the Ego loss. Felt like I was having my mind tugged on from afar.”
“Agreed,” groused Kársek, brow furrowed. “I disliked the experience immensely. Still feel… fuzzy. Like my head is stuffed like a pillow. But…” He shrugged and visibly put his cares away. “You’re looking awfully blue, Harald.”
“Awfully blue?” Vic perked up. “Was that a joke? Did Karsy-baby make a joke? He’s going to live! Praise the angels, he’s going to make it!”
Kársek leveled his flattest stare at Vic, who just grinned back at him.
“So. I’ve discovered something that could—maybe—change everything. Remember how you’re all afraid that Eclavistra gifted me the Crown in order to lure me into serving her by warping my soul without my realizing it?”
They just stared at him.
“That was…” Harald moved his head from side to side. “Kind of a joke? You know, stating it baldly like that? No?”
“Leave the jokes to Kársek,” advised Vic. “And! Point of order. The Crown was originally my tool. I don’t think this was all just a grand setup to ensnare you.”
Nessa looked sidelong at Vic. “Sorry, darling. You were bait.”
Vic puffed up his chest, about to expostulate, but a warning glance from Sam caused him to deflate. “Oh, fine. Not like I really stand to gain from winning that argument anyway.”
“Go ahead, Harald.” Sam’s tone was pointed. “You were saying.”
So, he recounted the battle. How his Well had drained the Soul Needles, and how he’d then siphoned power directly from the Essence Stalkers, using their own power against them. How Exeros had manifested, after, and surmised that he could do the same to Eclavistra through her Crown.
His companions’ eyes just kept getting wider.
“So that’s the problem. I can technically launch an assault on her through the Crown, but the moment I do, she’ll just teleport to me and—” Harald snapped his fingers. “End of story.”
“Harry. Darling.” Vic shook his head slowly.
“Eclavistra is too much sand for your little wheelbarrow. We’re talking an arch demon here.
Yes, she’s the weakest of the six, but that’s like saying you’re going to drink the smallest ocean of the lot.
Relative power qualifications shouldn’t delude you into misunderstanding the objective magnitude of what you’re hoping to accomplish. ”
Nessa grinned tiredly. “Say that again three times.”
Vic sat up straight. “Relative power qualifications—”
“There’s something to this,” cut in Sam.
“Exeros wouldn’t have manifested if there weren’t.
And if we can prevent her from making you her puppet, we need to explore it.
Because Exeros is right. I heard as much from Seraphina.
She was expressing her own private despair over the fact that she’d never become powerful enough to really make a difference. ”
“Can’t she just keep leveling and descending?” asked Harald.
“Not really. Apparently, the deeper you go, the more useful to the angels and demons you become. You stop being allowed to just delve and instead become a tool in their wars. Seraphina, for example, can’t just disappear and go raiding whenever she likes.
Alabenthos guards her jealously, using her sparingly in key moments.
She’s virtually a prisoner on the 33rd.”
“You’re kidding me,” said Vic. “And I thought I had it rough with Eclavistra.”
Kársek sat forward. “If she believes she’s being used dishonorably, then she should end her service.”
“That’s the thing. She can’t argue with Alabenthos’ logic.” Sam gazed down at her hands. “He has a longer point of view than we short-lived mortals. He’s positioning everything like a chess master. In a game of a chess, what right does a knight have to complain about how it’s used?”
Harald shook his head slowly. “I’d be more likely to agree with that if the angels were winning the war.”
Sam sighed. “I know. But my original point was: Exeros is right about our not being even remotely close to being able to fight the arch demons. So, if there’s anything to this theory, if there’s a way to defeat her from within—it could shift the entire war in the angels’ favor. And save Harald in the process.”
“Big ‘if,’” said Vic. “Though. Seeing as we’re going to be doing the angels such a favor, what if we went back to ol’ Benthos and asked for his help in pulling this off? Nobody else has a chance of holding off Eclavistra while you drain her dry, right?”
Harald sat up. “Do you think he’d agree?”
“I—I don’t know?” Sam blinked rapidly. “My hunch is…” She bit her lower lip. “I actually don’t know.”
“You know who would know?” Nessa’s tone was low, her eyes half-lidded. “Seraphina.”
“But how do we contact her?” asked Harald. “Remember how long it took to return her own swords?”
“I could return to the 33rd with my Artifact,” said Sam slowly. “And speak with her. But then I don’t know how I’d get back to you.”
“We could all return,” said Vic brightly. “Nessa and Kársek are wounded and need to heal. Ol’ Benthos might frown at our taking advantage of his hospitality, think us lazy and unmotivated, but he wouldn’t really punish us for doing so, would he?”
“I’d rather not fight our whole way back down to here again,” said Kársek. “But if that’s what it takes.”
Sam rose to her feet and began to pace. “Let’s think this through. We use my Disc to return. I speak to Seraphina in confidence. If she thinks it wise, I can then propose our plan to Alabenthos. If she thinks it foolish…”
“She’ll tell ol’ Benthos herself,” said Vic. “Who might take it the wrong way and decide that’s reason enough to kill Harry.”
“He wouldn’t kill me for being able to exploit a weakness of hers,” protested Harald.
“No?” Vic arched a brow. “He’s already put Exeros on overwatch. And if he learns you’ve the means to provoke her, he might—actually, you know what he’d do? He’d make you his prisoner so that one day he could use you as bait to draw her out on his terms.”
Harald went to protest, then closed his mouth.
“He’s right,” said Nessa. “Your ability to drain Eclavistra and draw her to you is a priceless tool in his war against the demons.”
“And is that so bad?” asked Sam.
“It would be if he decides to wait a decade before using it,” said Vic.
They all lapsed into silence.
“So, hear me out.” Vic sat forward. “This may seem a little underhanded, but that’s only because it is. We go to the 33rd. Claim we’re resting up, healing from the Soul Needles. Then, Harald finds the safest spot on the whole level and starts draining Eclavistra. Without warning our host.”
“Without warning Alabenthos?” demanded Sam.
“Because!” Vic raised a finger. “When Eclavistra teleports in—if she can even teleport into Alabenthos’ base—what will ol’ Benthos do?”
“He’ll fight her off regardless,” said Nessa. “Along with all his other warriors.”