Published at 3rd of October 2023 12:05 pm

Chapter 4.27 In Which the Dark Lord Falls For It

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Rhydion was across the room and through the door before any of us could react. By the time we thought to so much as follow, his voice was echoing from the hall beyond.

“Wait! Please, I wish to speak.”

We only avoided another doorway pileup because some of us (myself and Harker) had the presence of mind to hang back and not create one; Aster charged right through because that was the correct action given her role in the formation, and Dhinell did so because Dhinell.

It was clear from the noise alone that vampires in this setting got at least some of the traditional power-ups, at least insofar as preternatural strength. That axe was hitting that wall harder and much faster than a slender elf would be able to swing it. Even as we regathered our footing and then bolted toward the noise, it intensified and then changed. The sound of repeated impacts gave way to a great cacophonous rending as she apparently abandoned the tool and started ripping chunks out of the wall with her bare hands.

What exactly was Khariss up to, and how terrible an idea was it for us to be charging headlong toward it?

“My name is Rhydion! We mean you no harm!”

Biribo had said this hall was a straight shot toward the vampire’s location, but that was apparently only relative to Fflyr architecture, in which there were no straight shots of any kind. We dashed along with apparently the outer wall of the foundations to our right, consisting of huge rough-hewn akorthist—wait, no, this was actually built of stone. Huh. My attention was more occupied with the leftward curve of the hallway itself, which put the destination always out of our sight. Even Rhydion had made such good time we were only catching glimpses of his fluttering tabard as we raced to catch up.

The sounds were closer now—dangerously close, just in time for the noise of ripping masonry to be replaced by the screech of torn metal. Okay, note to self, do not engage Khariss in a hand-to-hand contest of strength. At least we finally caught up just after that.

Well, caught up to Rhydion—so fast, in fact, that we all very nearly piled into him and Dhinell only avoided impact by careening into the wall instead. He had stopped in front of the scene of utter destruction we’d just heard being created.

“Lord Seiji,” he said into the incongruous silence, “can you intensify that light?”

“Uh… I can hold it higher?”

“If you please.”

I lifted up the Orb of Light I was hosting, providing the best illumination I could to the end of this hallway.

Actually, the end of the hall had itself been walled off. Someone had hastily rigged up a relatively flimsy barrier of akorthist planks, which was now lying strewn about in ruins with only the vertical posts on both sides still standing, one bristling with broken ends. We’d all run right past that before managing to straggle to a halt.

It occurred to me, belatedly, that none of this had been a smart thing for us to do in a house we’d already suspected of being booby-trapped. Rhydion presumably knew what he was about; he’d already indicated he thought that armor would stand up to whatever she thew at it. The rest of us should probably have followed with more circumspection, if at all.

Oh, well, too late now.

Self-recrimination aside, I was far more interested in the surroundings. Past the barrier of planks had been a much more serious obstruction, which was now destroyed. I couldn’t even identify what it was, except that it had been applied all over the walls, ceiling and floor, like… Actually, it reminded me of huge wasp nests I’d seen pictures of. Apparently some substance had been slathered all over the end of this hallway in layers which then hardened into something very like amber—not unlike the gunk in the windows up above, except without the light-refracting honeycomb filaments inside.

I bent to pick up a piece, testing it in my grip. It was not brittle enough to have been easy to tear apart. In fact, there was the axe she’d used, a big double-headed battleaxe lying amid the rubble. One of its edges was badly dented by the impacts.

Before it had been sealed up with alchemy, this hall had terminated in a doorway. Into that had been set an iron gate—actual iron, not akornin. Someone had spared no effort or expense in walling all this off from access. It was no secret who, but she’d just undone all her hard work in a matter of seconds. The rusted iron gate now listed from one hinge, the whole thing bent at a steep angle and with its latch torn in two, broken lengths of chain which had apparently secured it now lying scattered about.

Beyond the demolished gate was a stairwell—one going down, which would have taken it underground. I hadn’t expected that, given the Fflyr distaste for digging and the fact that their predecessor culture seemed to have shared a lot of their sensibilities, but nevertheless…there it was.

The stairwell descended into darkness beyond the reach of my Orb of Light, but then farther still beyond the darkness. At the bottom there was illumination. Faint, and ominously red.

“Ohhh, shit,” Biribo whispered miserably. “Boss, don’t go down there. Big trouble.”

I waited, but to my vast, indescribable irritation, that was all he said. What in the cryptic fuck did he expect me to do with that?!

“All right, I’m gonna put it out there,” said Harker. “If you were were still angling to have a civil talk with her, Rhydion, that really doesn’t look to be in the cards. If this is a fact-finding mission alone, then the facts we’ve got now are enough to get the entire King’s Guild, the Radiant Convocation and maybe a Kingsguard detachment out here. Stopping at this point wouldn’t be quitting. It’s an appropriate point to stop.”

Rhydion nodded once, though he did not shift the direction of his visor from the stairs. “You are not wrong, Harker. Nor, I’m afraid, are you right. Could you really live with the cowardice of coming this far, through all we have overcome already, only to turn back at a flight of stairs?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made peace with cowardice,” the archer retorted. “Anytime the alternative is unnecessary risk to my survival, cowardice is usually my call. I sleep just fine.”

“It’s the curiosity rather than the shame that’d keep me up,” I admitted. “Frankly… I can go either way on this one, Rhydion. You’re in charge.”

The paladin turned to me and nodded once. “We proceed.”

Dhinell made a very soft sound that I pretended not to hear, because as much fun as it was to harass her it just never feels satisfying to pile more onto people who are literally making sad puppy noises.

Rhydion went first, at least. These stairs were wider than the ones that had brought us down to the basement; there was room for us to go three abreast. We did not; nobody wanted to challenge Rhydion for the vanguard, nor share it with him, or even walk closer than four steps back. Aster kept alongside me behind the paladin, with Dhinell and Harker trailing along behind like the reluctant participants they were not even pretending not to be.

At the bottom, Rhydion paused, then deliberately raised both sword and shield and stepped through the doorway into the chamber beyond. Aster and I exchanged a glance before following. Biribo didn’t make so much as a peep as we drew closer to whatever had spooked him so badly.

There was another formerly sealed doorway at the bottom of the stairs: as above, it had been slathered over with that rocklike amber stuff, and another iron gate was affixed beyond that. These had been burst inward, lying strewn in fragments across the floor of the chamber below. Apparently Khariss had just torn down the stairs at full tilt and plowed right through the defenses with all her vampire strength.

And the chamber beyond…

I had seen places like this before. Not exactly like it, there were variations in the shape and décor and such. But the purpose, the general organization, that was familiar by now. An enclosure with one entrance, built to perfectly secure the single precious resource hidden away within. Undoubtedly this chamber, this spot, had been the reason a village and a highly defensible mansion had been built here in the first place. It really said something about the extremity of whatever violent upheaval had followed the previous Dark Crusade that this place had since been abandoned and forgotten by broader Fflyr society, and apparently even the Shylver elves.

Not that it would have done them any good.

The altar’s built-in lights had changed from their normal pleasant blue-green to a pulsing fire alarm red. Above it, where the Spirit’s projected head should have manifested, there was a slowly rotating error message written in midair.

“Aw, Khariss,” I whispered. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Rhydion glanced at me once, enough that his helmet shifted slightly, but then returned his full focus to the Void altar. Stepping closer, he moved to the side, clearing space for the rest of us.

I frowned, suddenly taking note of something that occupied my attention even as Aster gently tugged me over toward the other side of the entrance, letting the others in. That message…

PENDING – STAND BY

That was not what the other Void altar I’d seen had said. What was that message? I couldn’t recall exactly but I was certain it wasn’t this. That had been an obvious error code, I distinctly remembered the experience of recognizing what anyone from a computer-literate culture would: that the thing was broken. This wasn’t that kind of code. This Void altar was…

Doing something.

Well, that could not possibly be good. I shuffled back, pressing myself against the wall and pushing Aster along with me with one outstretched arm. She didn’t resist, just giving me an amused look.

The next thing that distracted me was my sudden awareness that, despite Yoshi’s and later my own speculation, these things were not coded in Latin. It was disorienting because I was absolutely certain of that and it took me a moment to catch up with myself and understand how I was certain.

Apparently I spoke Latin now.

And I knew why, in hindsight. Biribo had explained how the auto-translation of the Blessing of Wisdom worked; I wasn’t fluent in every language that existed, but would gain mastery of any language I encountered. He’d mentioned that previous Champions had learned entire Earth languages just by writing down or saying aloud a few bits and pieces they happened to remember; I had immediately tested that, and yep. I was also now fluent in Swedish, because a few years ago I’d phonetically memorized the lyrics to Caramelldansen to amuse a girl I was fooling around with. More recently, I had quoted the famous but very short line from Julius Caesar, which…was apparently all it took. Wow, two words? Damn.

So I knew this wasn’t Latin, because I knew how to say “pending, stand by” in Latin and it wasn’t that. I also knew I must be fluent in whatever the fuck language this was because I’d seen it written twice now, but I couldn’t whip it out and speak it because I still didn’t know what language it was, and evidently that was necessary for using it.

Yet another example of this magic system being stupid and just generally badly designed. Fucking goddesses.

“What’s wrong with that Spirit?” Harker asked, grabbing my attention. He and Dhinell had entered the room; I glanced over at them to find her almost silently reciting a ritual prayer to herself. Yeah, she knew.

“It is no longer a Spirit,” said Rhydion. “The altar has been Void-corrupted. Do not approach it.”

“Shit,” Harker whispered. “I mean, obviously. I’m not gonna go over there and poke it, who would be that stupid?”

“Why, that’s a good point,” Aster said in the utter deadpan of withering Fflyr sarcasm. “What sort of abject ninny would haul off and do such an unutterably boneheaded thing as that? It goes without saying, surely.”

I ignored her. That didn’t stop Rhydion from glancing over at us, no doubt picking up on most of the story from those extremely sufficient context clues. Thanks, Aster. Normally I approved of her willingness to call me out but I was starting to think we needed to have a conversation about appropriate times and places.

“Anyway,” Harker continued, shooting me a sour look that didn’t suggest he’d noticed any of the byplay, “what happened to your certainty that she wasn’t a Void witch? I seem to recall that being a big deal.”

“My certainty? That’s what the wolf tribe told me. As you pointed out at the time, there’s never been a compelling reason to assume they knew what they were talking about.”

“On the contrary,” said Rhydion, “the ‘smell’ of the Void, as they put it, is something the wolves would very much have noticed, assuming that was meant metaphorically as I believe. The squirrels would also have been very much aware of it, and either far more eager to send us against her or too terrified to aid us under any circumstances. Void witches attempt to conceal themselves of necessity, and always fail. The nature of devils is to slowly expand their influence. The presence of one powerful Void witch is always noticeable over the span of years, even if their own subtlety is flawless, because by the nature of their power and the deals they must make to maintain it, devils are constantly working near them. Corrupting Spirits and initiating more Void witches—most of whom fail to be subtle, and fail swiftly. This woman has been here since the Dark Crusade, a century and a half. That there is a Void altar here means she not only does not practice that craft, but has gone to great lengths to suppress it, to deny the devils access to our plane.”

“That hardly accounts for why she would charge in here when threatened,” Dhinell said sharply.

Rhydion nodded. “This has just become more complicated. I see two possibilities, which demand opposite responses from us, and no easy way to discern which is truth.”

“Either she’s a Void witch or not, right?” I said.

“Those are the base alternatives, but I fear we are not so lucky as for matters to be that straightforward. There is strong evidence that Khariss Gwylhaithe has been devotedly keeping this altar suppressed—which means, even as a ranking Viryan, that we owe her all possible aid in so doing. The truce of the Goddesses and their servants against the Void is sacrosanct, and absolute.”

“She would not have broken this open if that were the case!” Dhinell exclaimed.

“It does counter-indicate that possibility,” Rhydion agreed. “Consider that none of us save Lord Seiji have ever heard of vampires. Devils shift between planes, and there are strong indications that travel through the Void itself is swifter than overland, for beings which can survive in there. It is likely they have contact with other archipelagos that we do not. Furthermore, if Khariss contracted a devil and demanded immortality, the vampire’s curse is exactly how such a creature might fulfill that promise: adhering to the letter of the deal, but afflicting her with weaknesses such as the thirst for blood and fear of sunlight that would grant them leverage over her.”

“You’re suggesting she took what she wanted from a devil and then managed to lock their ass up in her basement, and spent the next century and a half minding her own business so hard that only the beast tribes even knew she existed?” I let out a whistle. “Damn. I’m starting to feel bad about breaking her window now.”

“Don’t,” Rhydion said firmly. “The proscription on trafficking with devils is also sacrosanct. There is no justification, and no extenuating circumstance that could matter. It speaks well of Khariss Gwylhaithe that she has clearly done her best to suppress this Void altar, but poorly that her response to our presence was to flee to it. The question of whether it was she who corrupted this Spirit in the first place determines whether she is reluctant ally or persistent foe.”

“Okay, I need to break in here,” Aster exclaimed. “Not that all this isn’t important, but am I the only one who’s noticed that she isn’t here? Do any of you see another entrance from this room?”

We all paused, then looked around carefully. I raised my trusty Orb of Light to illuminate as much of the round chamber as I could. Its lower walls seemed carved out of living rock, with stone bricks above that forming a domed ceiling. The door we’d come through was the only one.

“There is also that,” Rhydion finally admitted. “I suspect the question of what exactly has happened to Mistress Gwylhaithe in the last few moments will settle the dilemma.”

“In fact,” I said slowly, “it raises a third possibility. If she’s a loyal Viryan who was so determined to take us out that she baited us to charge into this thing…”

I turned fully to face Rhydion, making sure I had his attention.

“Then, the truce is off.”

“All right, sure,” Harker said impatiently. “But how do you expect us to find out? I mean, she charged in here and fuckin’ disappeared. If the bitch wanted to commit suicide, I gotta figure she’d have picked a cleaner method than the damn Void. So where’d she go, then?”

“How is this anything but obvious?” Dhinell shouted. “She used Void magic!”

“If anything, that is distinctly improbable,” Rhydion murmured. “Teleportation via the Void is one of the very few gifts for which devils are unwilling to accept souls. They seem to harbor a deep aversion to allowing mortals the use of their plane for purposes of transit.”

I filed that tidbit away, as it was increasingly looking like everything I could find out about devils and the Void was going to be urgently important sooner than I liked. As if it wasn’t bad enough for me to have the Devil King’s personal attention, now this nonsense.

Much as I wanted Khariss on my side, with her alchemical mastery and vampire powers and clear fondness for my predecessor, if she was in bed with the Devil King we were going to throw down on sight. I could not have that asshole working a prying fingertip into my Crusade.

“We’re still standing around debating theory,” said Harker. “Fact is, the bitch poofed on us, we have no idea how except that it somehow involved that fucking thing, and I can’t see any way of getting answer that don’t involve screwing around with that Void altar ourselves. Rhydion, I don’t care if I’m out of line here: if that’s the call, I’m out.”

“You are correct,” the paladin assured him. “Tampering with the altar is not an option. The Void is lethally unsafe to access without a devil’s guidance, and to seek their aid is to be embroiled in their vile schemes. If we cannot deduce an answer to our question here, then it seems this mission is indeed concluded. For that reason,” he added, raising his voice slightly as Dhinell opened her mouth to chime in, “I will not abandon our course until we are certain. Consider that even for an active Void witch, to do anything with a Void altar which would result in physically disappearing would be catastrophically dangerous. Borderline suicidal. We know very little of Khariss, but none of that little suggests she is so careless with her own physical safety, not after she has gone to such lengths to survive for so long. I think it highly likely that this is some manner of ploy—to escape us, or perhaps even to bring this to our attention.”

“Seems…like a reach,” I said skeptically.

“We will only know more if we learn more,” he replied. “Let us investigate this chamber as thoroughly as we can, if only to rule out whatever possibilities we can, before we abandon our quest.”

“Rhydion, I know I just said you’re in charge,” I objected, “but you are playing with fire. I’m pretty sure we’re all within range of whatever this thing is capable of doing just by being in here. Poking around in this room when all we know about Khariss and this Void altar is that we don’t know what she just did with it seems…”

“I think ‘suicidal’ was the word you just used,” Aster finished.

Rhydion’s helmet shifted to regard the others.

“They’re right,” Harker said tersely. “Zombies, giant spiders, that’s one thing. This is the Void. We’re already way closer than I like, and have been for too long. I say we pull out.”

Dhinell’s breath caught, but after a moment she lowered her eyes and nodded agreement, looking shame-faced.

“I understand,” Rhydion said gravely. “You are all correct; what I ask is dire indeed, and beyond the scope of what you have pledged to this mission. It was wrong of me to ask this of you, and for that, you have my humblest apology. As I have said, I cannot abandon this quest so easily, but I will investigate this chamber alone. All of you should retreat at least to the top of the stairs, and preferably beyond the first broken barrier. She would have erected those outside this altar’s range of influence, so you should be safe there from any effects I may inadvertently trigger.”

“Now, hang on a minute,” I interjected.

“I will ask only one thing of you,” Rhydion said, resolute as ever. “If I come to grief from this, in any fashion, it is you who will need to relay our findings to the King’s Guild and the Convocation.”

“Oh, you asshole,” I groaned. “Son of a bitch, you know I can’t just leave you here to face the Void alone after that. Fuck it, I’ll take the left half of the room, you take the right.”

“Lord Seiji,” he said with one of his rare tones of open exasperation, “not everyone who expresses a sincere sentiment is trying to manipulate you. In seriousness, you were right the first time. It is better for your well-being and for the mission for you all to retreat!”

“Yeah, you heard him,” I said, turning to Aster. “Go with the others, we’ll—”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

“Can you not embarrass me in front of the paladin?” I protested. “Just once.”

“The dilemma here,” she snarled, “is whether I stay and watch your back while you do something stupid—you know, like I always do—or punch you compliant and drag your ass up the stairs while Rhydion does whatever he needs to in here!”

“Yeah, you lot talk amongst yourselves, I’m out,” Harker announced, turning and stepping back to the broken doorway.

A single pulse of red light flashed up along the grooves in the altar, terminating in a bright glow at its top. The floating text above it ceased to rotate and changed to a new message.

COMPLETE

“Damn,” I stated very calmly, “it.”

The pulse that flashed out from the Void altar nearly knocked all of us down. Not because of the physical force of it—there was none—but because whatever magic had just been unleashed caused massive vertigo. Aster held herself upright, as did Rhydion, but I had to lean against the wall and Dhinell crumpled to her knees, retching. I couldn’t see what Harker was doing from this angle.

Mercifully, that only lasted a moment. Once it ended, though, everything was subtly…different. I could almost have wished for a period of blissfully ignorant confusion, but the truth was, I recognized the odd greenish tint that suddenly filled the air, the sensation in my ears as if the air pressure had suddenly changed.

Behind me, Harker barked the bitterest laugh I’d ever heard.

“Triggered by trying to leave the room! Okay, I’m a big enough man to admit it. That was a good trap.”

I turned to look at him, and immediately stopped looking at him.

The iron gate across the door and the amber encasement beyond were…flickering. One moment they were in pieces across the floor, then firmly back in place. As if reality itself couldn’t decide whether this recent change in condition was canonical.

“Everyone, be calm,” Rhydion urged, and I had to admire the way he projected calm, making his voice soothing even as it was firm. This guy really knew his way around a showtime. “Breathe deeply, recite whatever prayer you must, take time to meditate. We will spare it, whatever you need to do. Maintaining calm is absolutely vital.”

I knew what was coming, but he went ahead and vindicated it anyway.

“We have been moved, physically, into the Void.”

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