Divine Apostasy Book 11 - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The angular silhouette of the Dark Tower loomed ahead, a monolithic spire that climbed hundreds of feet into the ashen sky of the Destruction Realm. Suppressed energy charged the air and smelled like a lightning strike. Grains of obsidian coated the dead land underfoot, gritty and unwelcoming. It crunched under his boots as he walked side by side with Zylkin. The Shadowmancer moved with a quiet power, exuding danger.

They followed a narrow, winding path carved from blackened stone. Vex and the crab remained near the distant funnel, and Zylkin brought them to the island with a recall item. The closer Ruin came to the tower, the colder the air felt, prickling his skin. There was no sunlight here, no warmth. Only the foreboding presence of the ancient structure ahead, its dark surface etched with runes that shimmered with a silver glow.

Deryssa had brought this tower, and the other four, into existence, her ancient bloodline combined with her Will the necessary components to manifest them. It reminded Ruin how much he didn’t understand about the power here. He needed to proceed with caution.

Zylkin led the way, his eyes sweeping the path ahead. When he spoke, his voice emerged as a whisper. “The approach is guarded by more than just beasts. The Tower senses intent, Ruin. If you approach with doubt, it will react.” He glanced over, the silver light of his eyes muted. “You must feel your right to enter.”

Ruin recalled how the towers had fought against him—and each other—during his battle with Lalquinrial. All but the Death Tower. It hadn’t acted against him—almost certainly due to the blood oath Echo had marked him with to signify her debt.

Ruin nodded as the weight of Zylkin’s words settled in. He let his gaze drift to the runes across the tower’s surface. They moved as if alive, shifting across the tower’s surface. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and trace them, to understand their meaning. The glowing sigils pulsed, like embers waiting to catch fire, and power lay embedded in their curves.

A shiver passed through Ruin, and he stopped. The sensation had reminded him of his Cleverness Attribute triggering except this had affected his entire body not just his mind. Why had he reacted so strongly to these symbols?

“Is everything okay?” Zylkin asked. “The cold takes some getting used to.”

“Yes, I just need a moment. What are these sigils covering the tower?”

Zylkin glanced up at the tower. “Perhaps the noble Val’dor that summoned the towers could tell you. All I know are childhood stories. The runes are the same every time a tower appears, although each tower has a different set. My grandmother told me the sigils spell the name of a god of gods. That if they are reassembled and placed back in order it will summon this entity. It turns out my grandma had almost completed this forbidden summoning, and this entity’s purpose was to make sure little boys go to bed and stop asking questions.”

Ruin laughed, the sound out of place in the oppressive atmosphere.

Zylkin studied the tower and continued. “I spent most of my youth convinced my bad behavior would end reality and kill everyone. Now, I tell the story to my own kids when they won’t go to sleep.”

Ruin patted Zylkin’s shoulder. “I think that’s called parenting .”

Once again, Ruin turned his attention to the symbols and let his mind wander, hoping whatever had roused his Cleverness Attribute would resurface. After ten seconds, nothing did, so he turned back to the respectfully silent Zylkin. “Has anyone ever catalogued all these?” Ruin asked.

“Yes, and if your Reputation is high enough you can buy a book that contains them all.”

Ruin added the book to his list of things to buy as they continued up the path.

The base of the tower loomed larger now, its massive entrance gaping, revealing more darkness within.

Zylkin turned from the Dark Tower’s doors and glanced at the other spires, all with open entrances as well.

“That’s odd,” Zylkin whispered. “I’ve never seen the main doors open, but all five towers stand unguarded now.”

“Weird,” Ruin said, not revealing he’d opened them all earlier when speaking with Varthon.

As they neared the entrance to the Dark Tower, everything grew muted, even the wind faded to stillness. Ruin’s footfalls softened, absorbed by the shifting shadows that swirled around the entrance like blowing snow.

Ruin straightened his shoulders as a strong resonance formed between his Dark Meridian and the Dark Tower. He placed a hand against his solar plexus as the surge of power emanating from the tower traced its way through his organs.

The Dark and Chaos Meridian connections had always been Ruin’s weakest. They were the two that Uru had connected manually using Io and her own pathways. Now, as his Dark Meridian vibrated in sync with the tower, pain exploded inside his torso.

Ruin recalled the small lights he’d witnessed racing through the ocean of darkness he’d found himself in after Lalquinrial had destroyed his human body. Those lights that led him to the “cave” where he placed all the items he salvaged from the darkness around him.

Now, with some time to process what had happened, Ruin had a theory. Io had helped Rami piece together Ruin’s mind in the Spirit Realm and Io had filled his mind with Creation Essence. That had contributed, probably greatly, to the appearance of the Narrators. But it was also the second time Io used Creation Essence on Ruin. The first was when Uru turned Ruin into an Axiom by connecting the Dark and Chaos Meridians to his Center.

Io had used Creation Essence to glue Ruin’s pathways to his Center, completing the passage to his Dark and Chaos Meridians. The handful of lights Ruin saw after his human body’s destruction had been the Creation Essence escaping the massive influx of Destruction Essence. Those particles of Creation led Ruin to the safety of that cave, which he now suspected was a different Meridian. One of the seven not associated with the Destruction Realm.

Ruin had placed all the items he’d found in that dark sea into that cave with the lights, items that had been incorporated into his Saraph body. The problem was, that Creation Essence no longer helped support the connection between his Dark Meridian and his Center.

The only thing that held Ruin’s Dark pathway to his Center was whatever the equivalent of spiritual scar tissue was. This didn’t pose a problem before, especially since he didn’t know how to use his Shadow Core yet and wasn’t cycling any Destruction Essence through his pathways and Meridians. The connection had remained undisturbed and safe from accidental separation.

Now, the resonance between Ruin’s Dark Meridian and the Dark Tower vibrated within him, jostling his Dark pathways. The pain made him gasp.

Ruin dropped to his knees and pressed his hands against his abdomen. He entered Last Breath, but the pain remained, its Spiritual nature bypassing his mental barriers. Releasing Last Breath he gritted his teeth.

Zylkin knelt next to Ruin. “How can I help, Exalted One? Should I take you away from the tower?”

Ruin shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. Last Breath had protected him from intense pain for years and the pain’s return was unwelcome.

In this fog of agony, Ruin’s Dark Meridian and pathways struggled to match the vibration from the Dark Tower. He felt his Dark Meridian shift, the sensation odd, like an arrow shaft sliding past bone. The vibration dissipated as his Meridian and Pathways harmonized with the Tower.

Ruin let out a relieved breath as the pain stopped. His chest ached, and he spent a moment just breathing. He could sense his Dark pathways still connected to his Center, if only barely.

A day ago, this would have terrified Ruin, but now, if the worst happened and they separated, he had the knowledge to reconnect them.

On the flip side, Ruin’s Dark Meridian felt right in a way he’d never experienced. It reminded him of when he perfected one of his Steps.

Ruin turned to Zylkin, who still knelt. He gave the Shadowmancer a grin. “Now that’s a welcome.”

Zylkin’s expression remained hidden by his helmet, but his body language betrayed his reluctance to continue.

Ruin forced himself to stand, swallowing a groan so he didn’t worry Zylkin further.

Zylkin didn’t rise, his head cast down. “Forgive me, Exalted One, this behavior by the Tower is new. I would have warned you had I known.”

Ruin patted Zylkin’s shoulder and then lifted him to his feet. “Ruin, remember. And that wasn’t your fault. You’ve been in this Dark Tower your whole life, and your insides are already in the proper place. I on the other hand, needed some adjustment. It’s like a Healer breaking a bone to reset it properly.”

Before Zylkin could argue, Ruin strode across the threshold.