Chapter 142 - Book 3 Epilogues (Multiple PoVs)

Amuntep

The morning air was crisp on the surface above Thrask and a thick fog had settled across the landscape.

Talia and her Tomte friend, Norick, rode just behind me.

None of us spoke as we cantered through the fortress guarding the platform into Thrask. I kept my eyes forward, relying on my Divine Footman’s sash to serve as more than enough excuse to move past the kiergards at the gate without question.

We crossed the bridge and passed a few travelers heading into the city—including a very large party of rowdy geonite men and two huge geonite females that looked like slow rolling boulders.

Talia looked over her shoulder as we entered the Black Wood. “You’re certain they won’t come for us?”

“They won’t know of my betrayal yet,” I said. “There is a chance they’ll never know. I ordered the bodies of the other game masters to be burnt. When they discover I’ve abandoned my divine post, it will be a small matter—likely overlooked. They should have no reason to suspect you two weren’t among the burned.”

Norick ran a hand down his beard. I noticed the small hand was shaking.

“Easy, friend,” I said. “You both have new lives, now. They will not be easy lives, I fear, but it is preferable to death, no?”

“Oh, yes,” Norick said, nodding eagerly. “I am very thankful. I will find a way to send word to my family in time. For now, I’m only concerned because… well…”

“Out with it, young man,” I said, leading my horse over a fallen log. We were leaving the main path, taking a route that may bring us across monsters, but I wasn’t worried about that. Our biggest risk was being seen on our way out of the city.

“It’s just the meatballs…” Norick admitted. One of his hands fell to his rounded belly. “I’ve heard they are really quite lacking outside of Thrask, and I’ve never been. I’m… well, I’m a bit of a particular eater. And if the meatballs aren’t up to the quality I’ve grown accustomed to, I fear it may—”

“You will have your meatballs, tomte,” I sighed. “I have been all over Eros, and you will be happy to know there are many acceptable variants of meatballs.” I paused, noted his anxious posture, and continued. “I particularly enjoy the sweet variety they make to the south.”

“Sweet meatballs?” Norick laughed. And then his face grew serious. “That’s possible?”

“Oh, yes. Possible, and delicious.”

The small tomte smiled to himself, laughed a little, and then seemed to ride happier. His eyes were distant, as if he was already imagining the experience.

“You’ve risked too much,” Talia said, pulling her horse up to the side of mine. “Ithariel will come for you, won’t he?”

“He could,” I admitted. “But… I suspect he will not.”

She frowned. 

I shook my head. The truth I held was a truth of my own for the moment. I didn’t want to cause despair. I didn’t want to infect them with the realization that poisoned my mind from the moment I woke.

Our god is mad.

But hope wasn’t lost, because there were others. And Seraphel had survived. Talia confirmed as much when sent an Eye of Uvu to the tournament grounds and saw only wreckage and ruin, but identified an airship heading directly toward the frontier town of Riverwell.

Seraphel was going to Riverwell, and we would meet him there. And if the fates allowed it, we would do whatever we could to help him reach his former power. With enough strength, he could challenge the Radiant Generals and even Ithariel himself. He could start fixing what had long been left to stagnate in our world under the rule of a mad god. Things I’d forced myself to have faith were for the best. Things I believed Ithariel let happen because he knew better in his divine wisdom.

And now I knew it was all a lie.

The world festered because his mind festered. And it would only get worse.

I gave the reins a snap, urging the horse I’d “borrowed” from the royal stables to move more quickly. There were almost none who dared to question orders given by a Divine Footman, so the stablehand had been more than eager to provide me with the best bred and equipped horses available.

Each bore magical items that would grant them incredible endurance and speed, should we need it.

We continued slowly through the mist, cutting more away from the path and from the sounds of the occasional traveler heading into Thrask on the main road. Around us, the canopy thickened and darkness fell, leaving us to navigate by the faint glow of our horses' magical equipment.

“Would teleportation have been safer?” Talia asked.

“I could have commanded a mage from the Order of the Rift to teleport us. Possibly. But their teleportation art requires a rune matching the desired location. Given the expense of the runes and the time involved in etching the spell, I doubt I would’ve found one with a rune for Riverwell in time. And even if I could, they document every teleportation. The Divine Radiants have access to those records. Traveling by horse means they’ll have no idea where we’ve headed.”

“Except the fact that you asked for three horses instead of one?” Talia pointed out.

“Yes,” I admitted. It was a risk I took because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Talia to the blades of the kiergard. And she had insisted on her tomte friend being spared as well. As a junior game manager, he wouldn’t have faced execution, but they were all slated for punitive assignments in dangerous cities and towns across the inner rings.

“Why are you so eager to find Brynn Stygos?” Talia asked. “You still haven’t told me.”

“And I will. But not now. Something powerful draws near. Tomte, stay behind me.”

I closed my eyes, drawing in magical power and preparing for a fight. Nothing in these woods should be a true challenge for me. It was only a momentary delay.

I would destroy this beast and any others who got in our path. And soon, I’d be with a god worthy of worship. A god worthy of my service.

#

Vitus

I sipped at my wine and only half-listened to the driveling conversation at the victory dinner. Dignitaries, important nobles, and war heroes were here. My mother was joined by two well-known Diamonds, Korenus the mage and Pirena the rogue. Decades ago, the three of them had been part of a famous dungeon diving team until their healer, Kessa was killed in combat. My mother was hardly one to share, but I’d gathered enough to know her death had fractured their group and led to them all breaking off to forge their own paths.

The three of them stood at the corner of the room speaking quietly. I could sense the urgency in their conversation and itched to know what they talked about, but I was barraged by half-hearted congratulations all night.

“—must be so proud,” a woman said. I recognized her, of course. I’d been well trained on the social networks of nobility and rarely forgot a detail I deemed important.

“Thank you, Lady Mara. I believe Lord Ducan was looking for you. He said something about needing you to protect him from getting too deep in his cups?”

Lady Mara smiled and gave a roll of her eyes. “Of course. Off to his rescue, then. As usual.”

Once she was gone, I moved toward my mother and the Diamonds.

She saw me coming, said something, and broke away from Korenus and Pirena to intercept me. “You should be mingling, Vitus. You know better.”

“What was that about?” I asked, sliding past her admonishment and cutting my eyes to her former allies.

She hesitated. Two or three years ago, she would’ve kept me out of the loop. But my mother rarely hid things from me anymore. She wanted me to be ready. At times, it was almost as if she was convinced I might rule some day, even though our family had no claim to royal inheritance.

“There are rumors of an airship seen leaving the tournament grounds, even though my son reported all three were destroyed,” she said simply, her blue eyes holding mine with a kind of gravity only my mother could manage.

But I was used to her, and I didn’t look away. “Yes,” I said. “I didn’t want to tell you anything you would need to withhold.”

Her lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “I see. And the reason this airship left the battleground wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain low-born you’ve made a habit of helping?”

I took a deliberate sip of my drink, waiting.

My mother made a short huff sound. “Very well. Protect your dear, frail old mother, then.”

“We both know you’re anything but frail.”

“Old, though,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Four hundred years young,” I countered.

She was about to speak again when a pair of dignitaries stopped and offered their congratulations. We both played our parts, smiling and thanking them until they left.

My mother pulled me into a shadowed alcove, lowering her voice. “I know you don’t need me to say this, but you must be careful, Vitus. Your ties to that young man…”

“He’s dead, remember?” I said.

My mother pressed her lips together, continuing as if I hadn’t spoken. “Your ties to him put you in danger. And I trust you’re only doing whatever it is you’re doing for strategically sound reasons. You have a future to think about. And I would hope you aren’t risking our family name for something as trivial as friendship.”

“I wasn’t friends with him,” I said. “And he died in the tournament, along with every other member of the mongrel army.” I paused a moment. “And everything I do is for a reason, because my mother taught me well.”

She seemed to study me for several seconds before finally letting out a breath and nodding. “Good. And Vitus… there’s something I wish to tell you. Korenus and Pirena have word that a beast has woken in the frontier. We have reliable information that destroying it could grant us Diamond Ascension Tokens.”

“What Rank is the beast?”

She hesitated.

“Mythril?” I asked.

“It’s not known for certain. But probable, yes.”

I felt a trickle of cold fear. “When?”

“Soon.” She put a hand on my shoulder, smiled slightly, then walked away to join a group of chatting nobles as if nothing ever happened.

I watched her go, and I couldn’t help wondering if this was a risk she would take under normal circumstances. I knew she’d been seeking an Ascension Token for decades, but being a max level Diamond already granted her authority nearly rivaling that of a king and the power to dispatch almost any threat that might arise within the inner rings.

Only a few ever dared take the risks needed to ascend beyond Diamond, which was why only a handful of Mythrils were said to exist. And those Mythrils were near legendary figures who existed more in rumor than fact. I certainly hadn’t ever met one. The only Mythrils I knew existed for certain were the Radiant Generals, and those who saw them in the flesh rarely lived to talk of it.

But the tournament had changed things.

King Theon was furious. I heard of no less than fifty executions already. Some had been killed for oversights allowing grommets to tunnel into the tournament. Some were killed for the failure of an assassin who had supposedly been sent after Brynn. Others were killed for the rumors now spreading not just in Thrask, but in other cities within the inner rings.

Rumors about a low born who was on a path to dominate the tournament and the nobles within it until “magical interference” cut off all the viewing portals. I knew none would dare to question the story to my face, but there were whispers that I hadn’t truly won.

Personally, I didn’t care about any of that.

All I’d ever wanted was to protect the safety of those without the strength to protect themselves. It drove everything I did, just as it drove my mother.

That was the charge of the Ra-Set family, and it was a duty I put above everything else.

Marcia Anukis approached. She wore a sleek dress fit for a warrior. It was made of interlocking metallic scales that glinted in the torchlight. She stopped in front of me and the scent of flowers and something more subtle drifted to my nose.

“Hiding?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

She smiled, eyes twinkling. “Liar. But I don’t blame you. I saw Lady Mara drooling over you earlier. I worried she was going to try to drag you to her bedroom.”

“She only wanted to offer congratulations.”

“And you don’t want to hear them, do you? You hate this.”

I shook my head. “No. This is for the best. I earned an Ascension Token. And he clearly didn’t need one.” I paused. “I still don’t know how that is possible. But I have asked around, and it sounds like they were watching him do it. Iron to Silver without a token. And in mere minutes…”

Marcia touched my arm. “Let it go. He’s dead. Remember?”

I sighed. We both knew he wasn’t. And I knew my path wasn’t done crossing with the path of Brynn Stygos. That man… There was something about him. And the power he’d shown again and again… it was terrifying.

“Dead, yes,” I said simply. Dead to everyone else, but very much alive to me. And I still wasn’t entirely sure I knew his motivations. That was why I needed to try my best to keep pace. If he grew stronger, I needed to follow. Because if he ever threatened the peace, I needed to be ready to put him down. Or if he needed an ally to stand against evil, I needed to be strong enough to do that, too.

I drained the last of my cup. “When does this thing end?”

She hooked an arm in mine, lifting her eyes to mine with a touch of mischief. “I can give you an excuse to leave, if you’d like…”

#
Minara

My hands shook as I smoothed out my robes.

One of the guards standing in front of the double doors to the Radiant Lady’s chamber offered me a sympathetic smile. “Everyone is nervous to meet her,” he said. “Don’t be hard on yourself.”

I took a shaky breath, nodding my thanks.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes,” I said again more loudly.

Both guards lifted their polearms and then banged the butt of their weapons on the smooth stone floor three times. After a pause, they pushed the double doors open for me, letting me into her personal chambers.

The room was lavishly decorated in white and red, the colors of the Radiant Order. I stepped inside, waiting with my hands clasped in front of my stomach, gaze dragging across the room. There was an intricately crafted diorama of the city of Thrask halfway painted on a huge, sprawling table.

Movement caught my eye, and I realized the Radiant Lady was on her knees with a brush, face inches from a building she was painting with black to resemble cracks in stone.

“Hello,” she said in a high, tinkling voice that reminded me of bells.

I bowed so deeply my back protested, but I held it until she made a sound, urging me to straighten. “Please, sit,” she said.

I moved to take a stool beside her, feeling immensely awkward to be sitting in a chair while the Radiant Lady herself kneeled before me. I’d been a member of her Radiant Order for years and hadn’t ever laid eyes on her, and now…

“It calms me,” she said, long fingers moving the brush with delicate precision.

She was shockingly beautiful, with a pointed, gently sloping nose and full lips. She had hair so red it nearly matched the red trim on my robes and skin so pale it resembled the white we wore. And her eyes were a crystalline blue.

The Radiant Lady looked up from her work briefly, as if making sure I was breathing. “Please, be at ease. You’re not in trouble, Child. I only asked you here to request a small favor.”

“A… favor?” I managed.

“Yes. I’ve been informed that you were close to the man from the tournament. They called him the leader of the ‘mongrel army.’ Brynn Stygos.”

My chest tightened.

“I wish to know more about him, Minara. You traveled with him through the Black Wood months ago, correct? I hear you even fought with him within the infested ruins outside Riverwell when you were separated from the party with archers by the name of Kass and Perch.”

I swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. “I heard he perished, Radiant Lady. In the tournament.”

“Yes,” she said dismissively, dipping her brush in fresh paint before resuming. “And yet the game managers shut off public view of the tournament just after he publicly humiliated them by defeating the man they clearly expected to kill him. He may very well be dead, but I’m not ready to accept the truth they so desperately wish to stuff down the throats of the masses. I’m asking you to find out if he lives for me, Minara. That is all.”

My heart pounded. Everything I’d done in my life had led me to joining the Radiant Order. My loyalties were ultimately with the order. Even if I did consider Brynn a dear friend, I couldn’t put him before the order—before the requests of the Radiant Lady herself. I bowed my head, nodding. “Yes, Radiant Lady. May I ask a question?”

“Ask it.”

“What would you do if you found out he still lives?”

“I would want to question him. I’ve heard about his healing powers, and I wish to learn more. Perhaps he has knowledge that could benefit our order. Or perhaps he’s planning to start his own paved path to rival ours…” Her brush stroked left and right several times, seeming to gain more force with each pass. She paused and fully turned to face me.

This woman who looked like she was in her early twenties was hundreds—maybe thousands of years old. And in that moment, I felt the weight of every single year behind her icy eyes. “We are the paved path for healers, Minara. So if this Brynn Stygos still lives, I think we need to have a quick chat. Just to be sure he understands the situation. Nothing more.”

I bowed my head again. “Yes, Radiant Lady.”

#

Potbo the Grommet

Several hundred feet beneath the city of Thrask, tunnel systems crisscrossed and wove in seemingly random patterns that ran ever deeper. Deep enough, in fact, to punch into ancient cities of people long past who lived beneath the surface of Eros.

Ancient people who fled the dimming stars. People who believed they could hide from the wrath of their creators.

But the grommets knew or cared for none of this.

The grommets dug. They sang and hummed. They commemorated particularly interesting finds with statues of mud—statues they sometimes reinforced with precious pure gold jewelry, weapons, and armors they found in the depths. Some of them dug with golden chalices, showing no concern when rubies the size of grapes popped from the metal and fell on the ground, soon covered by more loose dirt.

On this day, the grommets were in particularly good moods as some of the deep diggers made their way to the central grommeting hubs—large coliseum style rooms where grommets gathered to share stories of their tunnels and the things they found in their explorations.

A deep digger named Potbo dug through a pile of useless things the others had dumped in one of the hubs. Many of the things were shiny and made of the gold metal that really wasn’t nearly as pretty as the reddish orange color the silver metal got when it sat for a time. Potbo liked that metal better. It reminded him of dirt.

He nearly cut himself on a sharp metal stick that glowed with black magic as he plunged his thin arm into the pile, reaching for his prize.

His fingers scrabbled in the dark until he felt it. Squishy, stringy, and—

Potbo smiled as he pulled the root from the pile.

Silly grommets. They’d missed this one. But Potbo wasn’t one to complain. It was his prize, now.

He took a bite to test it, of course, because no self-respecting grommet would bring an untested root to the gathering. And he was happy to find it was delicious. Of course it was.

Potbo made his way toward the surface, navigating the near dark with ease because his eyes could see clearly even without any light. It was a happy day. He helped make a new tunnel which was very long and very tunnely, which was enough to make any day happy. And now he even had a root the others had missed.

Potbo thought the ones other grommets missed were always the tastiest.

Forbidden roots, he thought, smiling. He felt… joy.

He was nearly halfway to the gathering place when he saw Grimbo and a few others he recognized rush into his tunnel from a joining path. Grimbo looked at him, then turned and hurried toward the surface.

This interested Potbo. Grommets only hurried when they had to make secret rocks out of view from the others. And to see a group of so many grommets, including the Hero, Timbo, all needing to make rocks at the same time? It was not likely.

But grommets also hurried when they were scared. And that scared Potbo.

He took a small bite of his root for good luck, then tucked it deep and safe inside his hairs before he began shuffling after them. He moved so fast the wind blew into his eyes, scaring him even more deeply, but he squinted and found enough bravery to push on.

He could hear the gibbering of many grommets before he reached the gathering place. Once inside, he saw there was really something wrong, and it was not the need of many to make rocks.

Several grommets had fainted from alarm, and Timbo the hero was treating them with his healing stick repeatedly and firmly upon their heads. Small, adorable creatures that reminded Potbo of little grommets rushed around the room, squeaking or warbling in a way that made him wish to collect them and give them names.

But the leader of the Thraskian Gromville was here. Garbabo the large.

He stood at least an inch above every other grommet, towering impressively as he moved to the center of the gathering.

Potbo took a place among the dirt rows of raised seating, giving a quick greeting to the nearby grommets. He even took a moment to flash his secret root to them, grinning with sly pleasure at their widened eyes. He made appropriate wide eyes when they showed their secret things to him as well.

And then Garbabo raised his pink arms, which were noticeably thicker than the arms of an average grommet. He really was an impressive grommet, Potbo thought.

“You are all… listening. There is problem. Problem from deep,” Garbabo announced.

This alarming news was enough to cause dozens of grommets to faint. Timbo moved quickly, treating each of them in turn with a rhythmic thump, thump, thump, sound that rang through the space.

“The Shadow Cave Gromville is… finding us.”

Now there was panic. Potbo joined in the panic, womping in great alarm but finding comfort in the womps of his friends.

“You are all finding… peace,” Garbago urged, turning to wave his pink hands at all of us. “The women will come.”

Potbo was scared. Terrified, even. But thought of the women did cause him to smile. Potbo liked the women.

Shadow Cave, though… those were bad grommets. The most evil sort.

“Rejoice!” Garbago declared. “I am hearing… women!”

And Potbo heard it, too.

The tunnel to his left was larger than the others. Larger, because it was a tunnel for the women. Potbo heard the sound of their armor and weapons as they marched closer.

And all around the gathering place, the male grommets womped with relief and joy, for they knew the women of the Thrask Gromville would protect them from the Shadow Cave grommets. Tonight, the males would eat many roots and share many secret things. And tomorrow, they would dig, as it was meant to be.

Potbo had felt fear, but he was happy again.

#

Circa

“Higher,” I said, gesturing to Riverwell’s carpenter, who was very much tired of being ordered around by “a high-minded, uppity little teenage princess who acts like a raving bitch.”

He could call me names, so long as he kept building the walls.

“How damn high do they need to be?” he demanded, stepping back with hands on his hips as he looked up at the improvements he’d made to the town walls. They were eight feet high before, and now a section of lighter, fresh wood lined the entire town, pushing the overall height closer to ten.

“Higher,” I said simply. “Unless you wish to wake with a palefiend in your bedroom?”

The surly man let out a heavy sigh, muttered something about me under his breath, and stalked toward the front gate. He began barking orders to the young men working for him, taking his anger out on them as they all scattered into action.

I walked the perimeter, assessing the state of the town defenses. In truth, I didn’t know if any of it would matter.

I had reached Level 50, but I was still Wood. Without an Ascension Token, I was stuck at this power level, and it was quickly becoming clear that it wasn’t enough. The lich was growing stronger far faster than should’ve been possible. And every night, she tested us, sending stronger and stronger waves of minions.

Last night had been the worst yet, and Rock was still in town recovering from a grisly gash to his side. As usual, he jumped in to finish off what was left after I died, but he had only just barely survived. And now I’d have to face the horde alone tonight.

I was chewing my nail when Jarn, the captain of the town guard approached. “Is it that bad?” he asked.

I looked his way, shaking my head. “It’s not good.”

The man folded his arms over a dented and battered breastplate. “After the evacuation and with the deaths we endured in the ruins, I don’t have much to offer. All the guards I have are Wood Rank. We have a few adventurers passing through town, but they’re all Woods as well, and I doubt any will stand and fight against an overwhelming force.”

“They won’t,” I agreed.

“I’m not abandoning the town,” Jarn said simply. “So don’t even try to convince me.”

I twisted my lips. It was an argument we’d had several times now. “You could try talking to them again.”

“You don’t understand, girl.”

“I’m nearly thrice your age. Don’t call—”

He lifted a hand in apology, then continued. “These people are Riverwell. They have been here so long they can’t even think of an ancestor who came from anywhere else. They’ll stay, even if we leave. So I’m not leaving, even if that means dying to protect them. That’s what I fucking signed up for, and it’s what I’ll do. All the men and women I have will do the same, so give up trying to talk about running and tell us what we can do to help.”

I sighed. “Without Rock, I won’t be able to meet them in the field again. I’ll need any help I can get from the town’s defenses and your people. I’ll take down as many as I can, but there will still be some left. It’ll be up to you and your people to finish them off. If I die, I’ll return, but I’ll be weak. And if I die a second time before I’ve had time to recover, I won’t return.”

He eyed me uncertainly. “I heard rumors. So it’s true, then?”

“Yes. My class lets me return to life, with limitations…”

He nodded, his gaze turning to the distant hills. Toward the ruins a few days from Riverwell where the lich lurked. “Then we’ll hold the town as long as we can.”

With that, he walked back toward town, armor clattering noisily as he went.

I followed after him. I still hadn’t made it by the Arcanery yet to see if I’d earned any new accomplishments. If nothing else, slaughtering hordes of undead every night for months had earned me some rather rare and powerful equipment already. With luck, I’d have one more high quality reward before tonight’s fight.

I pulled my hood as I walked through the streets of Riverwell toward the Arcanery. After the evacuation, the town’s population had significantly diminished. Most houses stood empty and the streets were no longer full and crowded. People skittered from place to place with bags under their eyes and determined expressions.

They all had the look of people who knew the end was coming.

A man paused when he saw me, both his little girls bumping into his back and giggling before they broke into a slapping fight with one another.

I found myself smiling sadly at them even as I felt a pang of rage toward their father.

Stubborn fool.

But I tried not to judge him too harshly. It was as Jarn said. The people here didn’t know anything else. The idea of leaving this town was the same as death to them, so they’d rather stay and take their chances.

I passed the Adventurer’s Guild on my way to the Arcanery and glanced through the doors as a man in leathers stepped inside. Other than a single employee and three other adventurers inside, it was deserted.

A far cry from the bustling place I’d been sitting when Seraphel and Lyria walked in months ago.

Gods. It already seemed so long ago. Each passing day made me more certain he hadn’t survived the trials this world held for him. And each passing day, I was struck by how deeply I had failed him. I should’ve never let him follow me into those ruins. I shouldn’t have risked myself to go for the Forsaken.

I’d let my own pride blind me. I never truly believed I would lose, and now…

Now others were paying for my pride with blood.

I walked faster, pulling my attention from the guild and turning down a side street toward the Arcanery.

And I felt my resolve harden. Tonight, I would fight one last time. Tonight, I likely faced my final end, but maybe it was the bloody ending I deserved for my failures.