Thinning the Barrier

 

Golden eyes looked over a golden battlefield. Streaks of color lined everything. The grass, the trees, the soldiers. Even his host body now sported a thin stripe of gold from hip to shoulder. It was a wonder this body hadn’t been bisected, though he did suppose it was a lucky break. Switching bodies would have been a waste of his efforts.

The startled, frozen battle didn’t remain paused for long. A dazzling display of magical might should have seen his enemies surrendering immediately and unconditionally, yet they fought on. Irritants. Bolstered by the presence of that tower.

The soldiers in his immediate vicinity, once they recovered from their momentary fright over the situation , straightened up and took on looks of pride. As if the golden streaks of light now crossing over their armor had been an act of blessing. They probably wouldn’t have been as enthusiastic had the deadly magic remained deadly after splitting so much, but as it was, there was no need to hamper their bolstered morale.

Let the peons have their delusions.

Narrowing his eyes, he shot a glare at the tower. It was still standing. Still mostly unharmed. Certainly, he had been unable to cause much damage, though they had yet to reactivate the protective ritual he had first taken down. Now they were reflecting attacks at their attackers?

The irritant grew with every passing day.

That glare shifted upward. What was the Almighty Glory doing anyhow? She was the expert in destroying these things. Yet she was fiddling about. Clearly, her skills had rusted in the extended years since the last major fortress had been discovered. She had but a single trick. Even now, all she tried was dropping more nihilith pods onto the tower. At the start, they had been doing something. Now the flames employed by the tower burned them away with such ease that it was worthless. A waste of time and effort.

So rigid and stuck in her ways. She hadn’t developed an iota of creativity over the centuries. If anything, she had lost what little creativity she once possessed.

Well, if she wasn’t going to pull her weight, it was up to him to show the Almighty Glory the glory of the Gold.

Kneeling once more, he closed his eyes and began gathering himself.

So they could redirect his attacks? Hardly a concern. All magic had its limits and his limits were far, far beyond what some uppity Keeper could manage. He just needed to be at his full strength.

A few moments into his meditations and he felt something. Some tension in the very world. It built up slowly, over a few minutes. The final few seconds ramped up, reaching a crescendo in an instant.

Golden eyes snapped open just in time to witness an explosion in the tower. A tenth away from the top of its peak, bricks flew outward as if pushed by a bubble. Crackling blue-white lightning-like lines of pure arcane magic danced between the bricks, locking them into place. A tremor cascaded down the tower’s walls, rippling the stone as if it were made from water.

At first, he started to grin. His enemies having trouble was a benefit to him. It didn’t look like the tower was about to topple—it held on by a thread—but that could easily be rectified. Such a magically charged explosion wouldn’t have left that Keeper unscathed.

His smile slid askew as he felt a second wave coming from the tower. Not an explosion. A rush of magic cascaded over the battlefield. Pure, chaotic magic flooding into this world from elsewhere.

“What have you done?”

Apoplectic. That was the only word to describe the tone of the august voice coming from the shallow basin at his side.

“What have I done?” he snapped before his eyes flicked to the guards around him. They didn’t need to be here for this. The sounds of battle had drawn closer, so he jerked his head back toward the battle lines. “Assist our brothers,” he said, voice firm yet quieter. “Ensure I remain undisturbed.”

Although they looked anxious at being ordered away, they couldn’t disobey. Not him. He was their god. None could question his will. It wasn’t like he needed bodyguards anyway. Any mishap and he would simply take another body for his own.

As soon as they were gone, joined in merry battle, he looked back to the basin while keeping the crackling arcane tower in the corner of his vision. “Do you feel that?” he asked, wanting to confirm his suspicions.

The magic flooding into the battlefield had not stopped. Fortress Hearts were magic amplifiers, outputting more than they took in, but even they had limits. For such an infant tower as this, a short but loud thunderclap of magic should have been the only consequence if they had managed to damage its core. At the very least, the onrush of magic should have faded by now.

If anything, it was increasing.

“Feel it? The Solution is threatened. If we do not put a stop to this, all will end.”

“Oh, yes,” he said, sneering at the bowl of liquid. “Of course. Let me just snap my fingers and fix everything.”

“Your incongruous nature is unneeded. Where is our contemporary? The god of knowledge will have insight.”

A flare of angry golden light bathed the surroundings. “That traitor? Probably cheering on the Keeper, knowing that her end is our end.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Your inability to accept facts does not make them untrue. It just makes you a stubborn fool.”

He knocked aside the bowl of water after that taunt. Not spilling it, but sloshing the water to the point where he wouldn’t be forced to listen to whatever commentary the Almighty Glory would have for that. The fact that the noise would grate on her ears only made him grin. For all her pride, she sure knew how to whine.

Once again, he would simply have to handle things himself.

Kneeling, intending to use the momentary peace for something productive, he closed his eyes.

And felt another odd thing. The wash of magic still cascaded over the battlefield, drowning out most other sensations, but this one was different. Like something was specifically attuned to him. Cracking open an eye, he saw it.

A bright golden effigy hurtled through the air toward him. It wasn’t aimed properly. If he did nothing, it would sail right over his shoulder.

He reached forward, feeling a pull towards it. He wanted it. A golden effigy? Of course he wanted it.

The moment his fingers wrapped around its makeshift waist, he let out a content sigh.

Contentment. It wasn’t a feeling he could say he felt often. There was always more. More land to claim, more gold to hoard, more people to bow before him. To be content was to be anathema to the Heart of Gold. Yet content he felt. He settled down, smiling at the small doll. Did it look like him? Not this borrowed body, but the real him.

He was quite certain it did. Someone had gone to the trouble of carving a little statue in his honor. It was touching. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something nice for him. There were the servants and slaves and sycophants, but that wasn’t the same thing. They were obligated to serve him.

Someone cloaked in darkness slipped past the sparse soldiers around him. That cloak shouldn’t exist, but it did. But he didn’t care. Not now. Not while he was at such peace. Even her kicking over the basin and stomping on it didn’t bother him. It should have. Those basins were rare. Only a handful existed. Now, his was destroyed. But he had something greater. A treasure all for himself.

“Wow. That thing really did a number on you.”

Someone spoke now. The one in darkness. He didn’t even look up.

Not until the darkness grasped hold of his wrist.

“It’s mine,” he snarled, yanking his hand back. His anger, clearly felt, was enough for the darkness to release him. As soon as he was free, he settled back down, smiling as he gently ran his fingers over the golden surface.

“Okaaay… Tell you what, you can keep it if you just put on this little bracelet.”

His eyes drifted upward to find the shadowy figure holding a shiny silver bracelet. Manacles. Silver wasn’t really his color. It was just inferior to gold. It probably wasn’t even real silver. Did that make it better?

The shadowy figure stepped closer again, taking hold of his hand that wasn’t holding the little golden idol.

He allowed it. He wouldn’t have normally—it was his hand—but he didn’t feel quite so possessive at the moment. The shadowy clamped the manacle around his wrist and then around her own, smaller, arm.

“Great. You feeling nice and captive?”

He stared at the golden idol. “I can’t recall the last time I was feeling so captivated.”

“Right. Close enough I guess. We need to get out of here before that demon catches up.”

Demon should have been alarming. It wasn’t. Nothing was. If anything, getting away from a demon sounded like a great idea.

“I sure hope Arkk wasn’t in the middle of that explosion. Or else we’re going to have to get back the hard—”

A tug in his navel pulled at him, dragging him through a narrow tunnel of magic. The surroundings warped around him, removing him from the field of battle and dropping him down in the middle of a foul-smelling chamber of stone and metal bars. But he still had his idol, so he didn’t care.

“Oh good. You sit tight,” the gremlin—she removed her hood—said as she slipped her hand out of the manacles with ease. “I’m going to go find out what happened. Don’t lose that effigy now. Do you want me to tie it to your hand? That way you’ll never lose it.”

“Never lose it… Yes. Never.”

“What do you mean he’s gone again? This is the second time he’s disappeared in the middle of something important.”

“A worrying trend,” Inquisitrix Sylvara said, not that a hint of concern slipped into her tone. Her red eyes focused on the cage that held their esteemed guest. She hadn’t even blinked since Lexa brought her in. “Nothing to do about it, however. The fact that things are still moving and operational is a sign that he is paying attention.”

“Has he gotten himself kidnapped by the demon again?” Lexa asked, more to herself than to the rest of the audience. “No… The demon is tearing apart the Evestani army. Unless there are two of them.”

“I certainly hope not.”

Lexa scowled. There was no sign of anything being truly wrong. No unconscious dark elves popping up or lesser servants playing games of charades to communicate. He was teleporting people where they needed to go, even assisting with the battle against the Eternal Empire soldiers now that the visitors from the Anvil had joined the fray. All-in-all, the tides of battle had turned almost in their favor. The only things wrong were the airships still in the air, the lack of Arkk, and the top of the tower being blown up.

Anyone trying to climb the stairs got instantly teleported to a lower level once they got too close. So he was watching.

“What’s with those airships anyway?” Lexa asked, looking up at the inquisitrix. “I thought you and the abbess were going to take them down.”

“The avatar of the Holy Light was communicating with us, instructing us on how to use a portion of her abilities. Not making us avatars, but something more akin to Zullie’s utilization of the boundary god’s powers. But the communication cut off abruptly a few minutes ago. Same time as the explosion on the upper levels occurred.” Sylvara clenched a fist, still staring at the jail cell. “Abbess Hannah is remaining with the basin, awaiting further instructions. I elected to oversee this.”

Lexa didn’t like the sound of that. While it seemed like Agnete had the defense of the tower on lock, only an idiot continued to try the same strategies over and over when they obviously weren’t working. She doubted they had long before the paradigm shifted again and those airships became a threat once more.

That said, having the inquisitor present was something of a reassurance. Lexa had a lot of tricks up her sleeves but the inquisitor had knowledge and power. Especially when related to that golden effigy. She had created the thing, with Zullie and Savren, after all.

Savren was in the room as well. A series of cells—only one was occupied at the moment—lined half the room. The other half had been cleared out, providing space for Savren to make the final adjustments to the ritual circle he had designed. It was to be used in conjunction with the effigy.

Several guards stood about as well, weapons poised over the avatar’s head. Orcs, Kia, and a shieldbreaker weren’t about to let the avatar regain his wherewithal while still inside the tower. It would suck to have to kill him too soon, but they couldn’t jeopardize the fortress.

Alma ran about the room, bringing the flower to each guard as well as Savren, Lexa, and Sylvara in a circuit. With the avatar now holding onto the effigy, its effects didn’t seem to be affecting many others, but they still used the flower just in case. Having them all fall into apathy would end in disaster.

As for the avatar…

The avatar showed no signs of awareness of anything around. He sat on the floor with a vapid smile on his face, staring at the effigy. Some twine looped around his hand and wrist made it impossible for him to accidentally drop the effigy. Though that twine wouldn’t stop a dedicated attempt to get rid of it, he hadn’t even tried.

“He isn’t going to get tired of it, is he?”

“When crafting countermeasures for dealing with abominations of magic, a tuning is required before they can become purifiers. The Binding Agent needs to be powerful enough to stop their abominable powers from going out of control in an emergency but lenient enough to allow them to wield those powers in the first place.” Sylvara’s eyes flicked away from the avatar for the first time. It only lasted a moment, but she shot Lexa a tight smirk. “Naturally, I didn’t bother trying to limit this Binding Agent’s restraining power. If anything, I enhanced it.”

That didn’t exactly answer Lexa’s question. Sylvara probably didn’t know for sure. “The sooner this is done with, the happier everyone will be.”

“Indeed. Savren, are you still tweaking values?”

The warlock blinked long and slow, sighing. “Cease your complaints. I must be certain that the countermeasure carries out its purpose correctly. Complications would be cause for catastrophe. Counter to my communication, however, I am closing on completion.”

“Finally.”

“Carry the comatose captive to the center of the circle,” he said, waving a hand to the two orcs.

They looked at each other, swallowing. Normally, two burly orcs wouldn’t have hesitated to pick up a human child. Lexa doubted it was a task that required a pair. One of them could have picked up the avatar with a single hand. But therein was the problem. Avatar. They all knew what he could do if he suddenly returned to his senses.

“Just don’t try to take away the effigy,” Lexa said, offering her advice. It seemed to have worked when capturing him.

Carefully, as if he were an actual child and not their sworn enemy, the two orcs moved up to the avatar. One took his legs while the other took his back, tilting him so that he could be carried while keeping the effigy in sight. Kia followed close, her own sword humming with afterimages of her strange power, ready to eliminate the avatar before he could be a threat.

With even more care, they set the avatar down. Once out of their hands, they scattered, as if worried he was a viper ready to strike.

The avatar just sat there, staring at his little golden idol.

Savren swiftly moved about the circle, performing one final check to ensure nothing had gone wrong in the short few seconds since his last check. Normally, Lexa would have scoffed and rolled her eyes. Not now. If there was ever a bit of dangerous, experimental magic that she didn’t want going wrong, it was this ritual.

It came as some small relief that Zullie also hadn’t been seen since the explosion on the upper levels. Lexa didn’t wish the witch ill, but the witch had a habit of being overly ambitious to the point of ruination.

For every success like Kia, there were a dozen smoking craters. Or, rather, exploded chickens.

It was one of the many reasons why, despite witnessing Kia and Claire’s abilities, she hadn’t volunteered for the same thing. Nor had anybody else, to the best of her knowledge.

“Please promptly partition yourself,” Savren said with a look at Kia. “Proximity to your preternatural powers may prove problematic.”

The dark elf, still hovering over the avatar ready to strike, shot a glance at Savren. It took a second look at Sylvara—who nodded her head—before she was willing to take a step back. Savren then shooed her back even further with a little upward flick of both his hands. He continued, pushing her all the way back to the far wall. Only then did he stalk back to the ritual circle, pause at its edge to pull the sleeves of his robe up to his shoulders, and slam his hand down on the activation rune.

Bright golden light flooded into the prison. Lexa tensed, bracing for the inevitable end.

It never came. Blinking away the spots in her eyes, she squinted at the ritual circle. The golden light emitted from its markings, not from the avatar. The possessed boy still sat, a vapid smile on his face, even as the ritual raged around him. His fingers kept twitching, as if there was some struggle going on. Lexa had never been more relieved with her own foresight. If she hadn’t tied that idol to his hand, he likely would have dropped it by now.

As the light in the ritual circle intensified, the golden light on the ring of tattoos around the boy’s head began to fade. The bright tattoos dulled and blackened, drained of their power. Lexa would have expected that to mean that the avatar had left the body, but the boy’s eyes still glowed with bright golden light, doing their best to wash out the light from the ritual.

The brightness reached a peak, forcing Lexa to turn aside.

All at once, the light cut out. Savren pulled away from the ritual circle, panting, while everyone else in the room rushed forward, weapons raised. Lexa remained where she was, staring at the avatar, now with dull tattoos around his head but still-glowing eyes.

“Did it work?” Sylvara asked, staring at Savren.

The warlock, unable to find words for once, simply nodded his head as he tried to catch his breath.

Sylvara didn’t ask for a second confirmation. She strode forward, pulling a spiraled, needle-like dagger from behind her back. One of the counter-demon weapons they had ended up rejecting as viable. It was still overkill for non-demons, but perhaps the avatar warranted it. She tossed it to her other hand, the lizard-like mutation that Hale had regrown in place of the arm the avatar had taken from her.

Standing over the avatar, she waited one moment, just to stare. Lexa thought she was about to say something, some words of victory.

The only noise she made was a small grunt of effort as she plunged the knife deep into the avatar’s skull.