9 (II)
Dagger
Shiv examined Nomos’s spear. It was pretty well-balanced. The tip was some kind of glass–just like the daggers—and he could see a slight crack running along the top of the blade. A coldness trembled within the weapon, and Shiv felt that almost-heat again—what he knew now to be an ambient mana field.
On a whim, he decided to ask Valor about this, wondering what the dagger might tell him. “Valor. Question: Is magic tied to one’s vitality? I know it’s a strange question but—”
“Not a strange question at all. Vitality and mana are parts of the same structure. Well, vitality is… It is like the state of one’s current existence—the health of your soul, so to speak. Most models of the soul include it as the pillar holding up the mind and serving as a sort of membrane for your soul. Magic, in its simplest form, then, is when a specific existential concept is imprinted deep enough on your mind that it seeps into your soul and causes something akin to another layer to grow over your vitality. Hence, most people view their magic as a kind of field or limb.”
“Yeah,” Shiv said, nodding. “That’s exactly how it felt when I—when I faced the high vampire. His field was pretty massive, though.”
“Indeed. It must have taken great fortune or skill for you to survive. Biomancy can be as insidious as it is helpful. Toughness offers little resistance when it is your own body that betrays you.”
Shiv learned that in detail the hard way. Over and over. But that was also how he probably got Biomancy imprinted on him. That made him consider something: If he tasted death through the other forms of magic, could he imprint on those as well? Was there a limit? “How many magic skills can someone have?”
“There isn’t technically a limit to what can be attuned to one’s soul, but time is a major factor. Time, focus, and resources. Attunement can be quite difficult, as you might be able to attest, and growing your skills is a major commitment as well. Hence, this is why most people choose to focus their efforts, seeking to become Master-Tier in specific areas before they advance elsewhere.”
“Makes sense,” Shiv said. And it was also good for him. He might just be able to attune and level all the different magics. The Deathless was awash in questions now. After a few minutes with Valor, he learned more than he had over the years on Blackedge. Despite all the surrounding death, he couldn’t help but feel happier than ever.
He might be trapped in the Abyss for now, but his spirit was running free.
He wanted to ask the dagger even more things, but he decided to wait until he finished matters here and found a safer place. If Valor was right, he was probably going to run into another high vampire if he stayed. Maybe more. Shiv wondered if he could win that fight eventually—but considering how the high vampire he just killed figured out his great secret by the end, Shiv could see a situation where they focused on incapacitating him rather than killing him.
That wouldn’t end well.
As he nudged each of the Umbrals next to each other, he picked up Nomos’s spear with one hand. He knew there was magic expanding out from it, but it wasn’t his. He wondered how he could channel the ice. It was also awkward holding it in one hand, as his chef’s knife was practically fused to his right palm. Shiv briefly unequipped the kitchen knife and assumed the stance he had watched Nomos take earlier.
Knife fighting came easy after a lifetime in the kitchen, on the streets, and murdering lesser vampires from behind. A spear was a formal weapon, though, and Shiv had no training in that.
“Valor. Final question before we go: I got Nomos’s spear, but… how do I use it? The magic inside it.”
“How do you use your own Biomancy?”
“Focus and intent?”
“Such is the same. Just focus on the spear. Tell it what you want it to do with your mind, as magic is born of the mind, after all. If what you desire is possible, well-defined, and within the invested skill’s limits, it will be done.”
Shiv took a breath and did just that. He imagined thrusting out like Nomos did, but rather than launching a wave of stabbing icicles, he desired a sheath of frost to encase the Umbrals. He stabbed. The tip of his new spear flared with magical radiance, and suddenly the fallen elves were covered by a dense layer of frost, protected from the hardness of the world and preserved in their final moments.
Shiv let out a breath as the tip of his new spear faded back to dimness. “Nice.”
This was going to change a few things for him.
He left immediately after that—but not before splattering the high vampire’s body with a massive slab of ice. Shiv chuckled as he walked away. Who said vengeance left one feeling empty? He was having the time of his life.
Using the spear to light his way in place of his now lost torch, Shiv moved along the walls with spear in one hand and compass in the other. He found a winding tunnel leading up and out from the caverns he was in. After what felt like ten minutes of twisting about, he came out into a wider set of tunnels. The ground turned flatter beneath his feet. Rather than standing on jutting stones with divots and uneven surfaces, he was walking over even—albeit cracked—ground.
Here, he chucked the first brooch, doing as Valor recommended.
As he looked about some more, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. There was broken glass in some places. He passed through what looked like a damp room filled with rusted lockers. As he came out, he found himself walking along a strange, brutally mangled length of metal that vaguely resembled a carriage.
“Did someone build and abandon this place? It almost feels like the old city’s ruins.”
“Because it was part of the ruins,” Valor said, confirming Shiv’s suspicions. “The city of Los Angeles. The sunken city. The split city. Once a great city, before this age of magic and mystery. The System may have made us Pathbearers. Legends unto ourselves. But I suspect mankind was great together once. Great even without mana and skills.”
“How did they survive?” Shiv said, wondering how someone could even endure in a world where they couldn’t get stronger through effort. Even at his most desperate, at his lowest, a skill advancement ignited something in him. Made him keep going, made him want more.
“Together, I suspect. And with the help of the ancient automata. It seems the humans and machines had been together for a long time. Sibling races, if I were to guess. Or maybe more parent and child.”
Taken from , this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Shiv continued walking as he stared at the long metal carriage that didn’t seem to end. “Did some great lord ride these carriages underground?”
“The underrail.”
“What?”
“The ancients called it the underrail. And from the old techno-texts I’ve seen, it wasn’t just for lords, but everyone.”
“Everyone?” Shiv said. He tried to imagine a world where everyone got to experience comfort and wonder. His mind couldn’t manage it. “It sounds like they cared about each other a lot. More than we do right now.”
“Perhaps so.”
Shiv kept walking for a while, doing his best to stay vigilant and careful. The good thing about the spear: Shiv could make it go dark at any time he wanted. After he left the dilapidated underrail carriage behind, he continued his journey through the strange, artificial tunnel for what felt like a good few hours. He only made a brief stop once to collect some more of those glowing mushrooms.
“Hey, Valor. I got a question. The spear responds to me pretty well, but I managed to get an angler beast’s stalk earlier. It could shoot a beam when it was still connected to the monster, but I couldn’t get it to do anything while I had it.”
“Oh, you speak of a cave biter. Hm. You must have cut the stalk off the head of an infant.”
“What? That was a baby ?” Shiv paused. He was imagining killing and eating the cave biter’s young—only to discover it was the young. “Just how big do they get?”
“Some lords of the abyss use them to carry merchant towns.”
“Merchant towns ?” Shiv hissed. He tried to imagine a cave biter carrying all of Blackedge on its back—how large and mighty the creature would have to be. That was… terrifying. But then the Deathless remembered the vicar. The skeletal serpent showed an awesome display of magic Shiv didn’t even think possible. There was so much he didn’t know, so much he was learning.
Broken Moon, life can be fun when you're free to explore, Shiv thought with a faint smile.
“Well, anyway, the answer to your question is that the eye-stalk doesn’t have any mana in it. Not unless someone manages to invest part of their mana within the severed organ, which… There are better conduits for magic, frankly.”
“Well. I look forward to cutting the stalk off an adult someday,” Shiv said with a grim smile.
“That’s a very bloodthirsty statement, Shiv. Are you alright?”
“The cave biter tried to eat me.”
“Ah. Well. That explains it. I recommend you do not take too much offense at the creatures. Hunger and aggression are almost all they know. Such was the way the System changed most of them. Not all monsters live long enough to develop functional sapience.”
Once again, Shiv felt the ground vanish from under him. “Sapience? They can think?”
“Some. If they live long enough. The large, adult cave biters are sometimes merchant lords in their own right. The ones that managed to avoid an early Enslavement Curse, that is.”
The Deathless couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s… That’s awesome. Everything is incredible. The world is great.”
“And that is a remarkably positive attitude to have about life. Why, if more people thought like you—” Valor paused. “You’re surprisingly resilient, aren’t you, Shiv? You seem to have handled the deaths of the Umbrals quite well.”
Shiv shrugged. “A shame they died. Didn’t know them that well. Did what I could. Also, they were kind of mean to me.”
“Ah. Do not blame them, either. Most Umbrals bear a nightmarish history. Theirs is a tale of woe and salvation. Such is why they are so loyal to the Composer and the Weaveresses. They would still be little more than slaves for the other faiths otherwise. I say this for everyone but Nomos. It is wrong to speak ill of the dead, but her issue was that she had a truly dreadful personality.”
“Yeah, I kind of got a taste of that.” Shiv shook his head. Out of everyone, the nicest person he'd met so far was someone trapped inside a dagger. This was all feeling like some kind of fever dream—a really nice fever dream.
Remembering Georges and how Blackedge was under attack reduced Shiv’s enthusiasm by a bit. He didn’t much like most people there, but he still needed to grow more powerful and help with the war. Mainly because he wanted to rub his ascension in their faces. Especially Roland Arrow. He always knew he wasn’t who they feared, and that he was his own person.
The glory of his imagined return and everyone begging him for forgiveness was interrupted as he finally came to a wide-open exit. As he carefully stepped out from the tunnel, a scene of something magnificent unveiled itself before him.
He looked up to find brilliant, bioluminescent veins, the brightness comparable to that offered by the fragments of the broken moon, spreading all across the distant ceiling of the massive cavern. And it just kept going, even past the horizon. It was like a trail of flowing stars running through the night sky. Except he was still underground. Except the Abyss was supposed to be a nightmarish realm that only housed monsters and terrors.
Consulting his compass, he found it directing him forward into a dense forest of… Were those giant mushrooms? Trailing mycelia undulated through colossal fungi rising before him, each one towering higher than a normal residential cluster on Blackedge. It was like he was discovering wonder with every step he took. If things kept up this way, he would feel too indebted to the raven-helmed stranger for throwing him off Blackedge.
Maybe Shiv might spare the tainted bastard. Just for letting him experience this. That didn’t mean Shiv wasn’t going to beat them within an inch of their life and take all their weapons and armor, though. Mercy didn’t come for free, and Shiv was a very materialistic Pathbearer.
“Shiv, are you out of the underrail tunnels yet?”
“Yeah,” Shiv breathed as he strode toward the large fungi, feasting his eyes on everything. “I’m—I’m in a wide-open place now. Like a mushroom forest.”
A beat followed. “Ah. Not good. Nomos must have been in a terrible hurry to set a route through here.”
Shiv stopped. “What? What’s wrong with this place? It looks really peaceful. It might be the most peaceful place—”
“Because Moonblood Sprawl is home to over a dozen colonies of feral Weaver nests. Shiv, listen very close to me: You need to—”
Something buried itself in Shiv’s back before he could finish the sentence. A stiletto of pain burrowed deep through his lower back before stopping dead against his spine. Shiv let out a surprised shout of pain as he found himself lifted off the ground.
“Shiv? Shiv?” Valor called out, sounding worried.
Shiv somehow kept a grip on his spear even as the blade in his back twisted upward. He heard a chittering sound behind him, and when he turned, eight large black eyes greeted him. Four twitching mandibles flicked bubbling acid toward his body. Eight horrible, clawed hands clamped down his body, and the monster that seized him spread four pitch-black wings as it started rising into the air.
It was vaguely humanoid, but mostly resembled something between a wasp and one of those large, hairy spiders that hid in the city ruins sometimes, and every part of Shiv recoiled in disgust. “I’m… I’ll be back…” he said to Valor, ignoring the stone dagger’s calls. Shiv felt a surging paralytic flood his body before his muscles went numb. His Biomancy gave him an intense sense of how it was rushing through his bloodstream and burning through his nerves.
His Toughness combated the venom quite well, but Shiv was still starting to feel lightheaded. He used his paltry magic field to hold the poison in place as best he could before turning the spear’s tip at himself.
He grinned at the thing he guessed to be a feral weaver . “Hey. Let me show you what it takes to drive a stinger all the way through someone.”
And with a surge of intent, a long needle of frost spiked straight through Shiv’s chest and ran the weaver through as well.