Chapter B3C48 - The World Beyond

Chapter B3C48 - The World Beyond

In the aftermath of the ritual, Tyron focused on recovering his breath as he massaged his aching hands. His throat felt raw, and his reserves of magick almost completely drained. The bitter tang of arcane crystal would linger on his tongue for a day or two, he’d definitely taken too much. He leaned to the side and spat the last of the mage candy onto the ground. There’d be a lot of pain later, but Tyron was confident he’d erred on the right side of his limitations.

Before him, the crack in reality persisted, an arch of bone framing a black door. An Ossuary. He was excited to learn what it was, but... he didn’t think he could get off his knees just yet. A few more minutes and he’d have recovered a little magick and perhaps gathered the strength to fetch some water from his pack.

“By the divine teats! What the fuck was that, kid?” Dove yelled as he ran up the slope. “I was expecting a big ritual, but that was fucking ridiculous, I could see it all the way down the slope. You bet your ballsack they could see it in the village as well. If they weren’t too intimidated, then I expect someone is going to come poking their nose into your business.”

The onyx skeleton stood looking at the arch that stood in the centre of the ritual circle.

“Oh nice. You made a door.”

“It’s... an Ossuary,” he huffed, between breaths.

“So you said, but you and I both know you haven’t the foggiest idea what it does. The Unseen is notoriously stingy with details, and you don’t have a Class manual. It could be completely useless!”

Tyron grimaced as he forced himself to his feet. Despite a little waver, he managed not to fall and began to stagger to his nearby pack.

“Even if it’s useless now, this is the first ability I gained with my Class. I don’t doubt there are feats and other spells, possibly even more rituals, that I can learn to develop it further.”

“Then shouldn’t you have waited before rushing ahead to cast this?” Dove pointed out.

The Necromancer allowed himself a slight smile.

“I probably should have,” he admitted after taking a cautious sip from his waterskin.

Blood and bone, his throat was sore.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to resist.”

The lure of new magick was too strong for him, he could admit that, especially such an intricate and interesting ritual as this one. Perhaps he’d cut off his own toe, rushing into it so quickly, without fully understanding how the Class was going to develop, but Tyron was satisfied after everything he’d put into it. His ritual would be useful down the line, no matter what.

“How long is it going to stay there?” Dove wondered, staring at the door. “Is it permanent?”

“Of course not,” Tyron scoffed. “It’ll vanish once the circle is disrupted or runs out of power. It’s barely pulling in enough to keep the entrance manifested.”

“I’m assuming you can also dismiss it?”

“Of course.”

“Right.”

The skeleton circled around the arch, humming in appreciation as he went.Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

“I saw a gate into the Astral Sea once, you know,” he called as he reached the far side. “It looked a shitload more impressive than this. Bigger, and much more colourful. This thing is depressing.”

“Isn’t the Astral Sea impossible to traverse?” Tyron asked. “Why would anyone want a gate that goes there?”

“It might be impossible to traverse for weak pieces of shit like you and me, but that doesn’t mean that’s the case for everyone.”

“Huh.”

After another minute of rest, Tyron finally felt well enough to approach the entrance, nerves beginning to stir now that the rush of completing the spell had faded. He hoped Dove wasn’t right. It would feel like such a waste if he’d gone to all this effort and created something he couldn’t even use.

Directly above the door, dead centre of the arch, a human skull sat, looking down on him as he approached. An interesting detail, he didn’t think he saw any other skulls as part of the myriad bones that made up the arch. After considering it for a moment, Tyron stepped forward and pushed open the door.

There was a hint of resistance, and then the black wood swung soundlessly, cold, still air wafting through the opening.

Trenan’s instinct was to retort, but he had to bite his tongue as he considered what she said. Fucking idiot actually had a point.

“I swear by the gods, Brigette, the only time you say anything smart, it’s to get yourself into danger, not out of it.”

She grinned at him.

“So we’re going then?”

In one bound, she leapt to the side table where she kept her gear and began to buckle on her scabbard and leather armour.

“You want me to get the others?” she said over her shoulder as she wrestled with the straps.

“No,” he replied shortly. “It’ll just be you and me. If it’s just kin up there, the two of us can make it back safe. If we piss off the Necromancer, at least you and I will be the only ones serving an eternity in death.”

The very thought of it chilled his heart, but Trenan took his duty seriously. He was on this mountain to kill kin and keep people safe.

“Good point,” the swordswoman replied. “Are you going to get ready?”

Her team leader pulled his coat open to reveal he was wearing his armour underneath.

“I’m always ready.”

They were spotted on the way out, because of course they were, Brigette made enough noise for a parade when she wanted to. Turns out it didn’t matter much, none of the other teams were all that keen to join them. Gramble had apparently gone running to see the Magister once the magick had lit up the sky. If he’d been there, Trenan would have told him not to bother. He’d tried talking to the man the day before. It hadn’t gone well.

Don’t think about it, idiot. If you start to think your own mind is going to get messed with, you’ll never make it up the slope.

For her part, Brigette seemed unusually determined. Once they were out of the gate, she strode up the mountain, her expression and shoulders set. Whatever the reason, Trenan was glad to see a rare glimpse of her taking the job seriously. She coasted on her talent far too much for his liking.

“Stay sharp,” he reminded her. “There could be kin anywhere. If we run into a big group, we run back to the village, not fight a stupid battle. Got it?”

“Of course,” she said.

After they continued to trek up the slope, they eventually came to a group of skeletons standing astride the path. Silent and still, they watched the two slayers approach with purple flame burning in their eyes. Only six of them, an unusually small number, though he supposed it made sense. The mage wasn’t worried about being attacked from this direction.

He heard Brigette's knuckles crack as she tightened her grip around the hilt of her sword. In one bound, he was by her side, hand pressing firmly down on the pommel.

“Brigette,” he murmured softly. “Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed? Because if you are, you didn’t need to convince me to come along to die alongside you, right?”

“There’s only six of them,” she hissed back, glaring at the undead.

“There are hundreds more and you fucking know that. Get your hands off your damn weapon.”

The last was forced through gritted teeth as he tried to force some sense into his teammate. To his relief, she finally relaxed and withdrew her hand.

“Now stand behind me and don’t do anything stupid,” he warned her, then stepped forward, hands raised towards the skeletons.

The undead hadn’t moved during their exchange and remained as they had been, watching.

“I’d... uh... like to talk to the Necromancer? Presuming he’s still alive.”

He must be, if the undead were still fine, he supposed. Why was he talking to the damn bones anyway? Could they even speak back? One of them had, but Trenan felt that particular skeleton was... unique.

Silently, the skeletons parted, seemingly giving permission for the two slayers to pass through. Nervous, Trenan led the way, glaring back at Brigette every few steps just to make sure she wasn’t being stupid.

When they came to a relatively flat clearing, they saw him. Trenan caught a glimpse of something, a doorway of some kind, fading to nothing, before the mage turned to face them, eyes narrowed.

“My first guests in a while,” the mage rasped, then coughed. “I presume you have questions?”