Chapter 868: Trying to Reach the Ravener

Chapter 868: Trying to Reach the Ravener

“Before I answer your questions, I must ask one of my own,” the Ravener started. “How did the Mark of the Fool become the Mark of the General once more? What did you do? The creator desired for that Hero to be eliminated. They were too arrogant. They did not know their role. Generals became Fools in Uldar’s divine plan, and so they were given a more appropriate name and role.”

Alex felt its attention crawling over him.

“To revert the Fool back to what was never to exist again is an abomination,” scorn filled the Ravener’s voice. “It is arrogance. It should not be possible. How was it done?”

The young wizard’s hand fell to a purse on his belt.

Within, lay the Coin of Silent Friends. He held it in his hand for a moment.

“All there is to tell you is that a lot of progress has been made since Uldar created you and the Marks.” Alex squeezed the coin. “Someone very clever and very brave sacrificed everything for that progress. It was because of her work that I was able to undo what Uldar did.”

“What?” the Ravener’s response was flat. Irritated. “Impossible. The creator is...a paragon of wisdom and knowledge. There is no possible way for mortals to undo his works.”

“Truly? Is it truly not possible?” Merzhin asked gently. “Are we not here after undoing his works? Child of Uldar—” The Saint looked at the Ravener. Alex could feel the construct’s attention shift to Merzhin. “—this cycle has changed what was unchanging. All is different now, and can never return to the way it was. The hidden church is destroyed. The Heroes are united in a way previously unseen and—for the first time—are united against Uldar’s legacy. Our allies have crafted new developments from your dungeon cores, and those developments will likely change the world.”

“You prove only your arrogance with such words, Saint of Uldar,” the Ravener said. “Many cycles—more than you can truly comprehend—have passed since Uldar began the eternal cycle. There have been many changes. Many permutations. The march of time washes away anomalies. There have been other Usurpers—those that controlled dungeon cores when they should not have—but they have been wiped away. It is the ultimate arrogance to think of yourselves as any different. You will also be washed away.”

“But why?” Merzhin asked.

The Ravener paused. “You ask why?”

“Why are we to be washed away?” the Saint said. “What will that accomplish?”

“It will fulfil the purpose set for us—”

“You’re lying,” Alex said.

All eyes turned to him.

“What?” the Ravener said.

“You’re lying.” Alex pointed at Uldar’s corpse. “You trying to ‘wash us away’ won’t fulfil any purpose that he meant for us. The entire purpose of this conflict was to try and channel enough faith into him so he could heal himself. That’s impossible now, since: he’s dead. We can’t fulfil that purpose, so there must be some other reason why you’re doing this?”

Silence followed.

“You do not have to continue on this path, you do realise that, don’t you?” Merzhin cut in. “You are like us: Uldar might have crafted a purpose for you, but now you are free.”

“Free?” the construct asked. There was a mocking note in its voice. “Free from what? From purpose? My existence was defined and my role was immutable. There was no uncertainty. No confusion in the endless march through eternity. Now there is only confusion.”

“And you can guide yourself through that confusion,” Alex said. He used the Mark of the General to focus on having his words sound appealing to the Ravener. It guided him in adopting subtle mannerisms from Uldar’s speech pattern, wanting to sound comforting to the construct. “You do not have to continue slaughtering people. I’ve seen visions of the culling and know that you also have the capacity to create. To rebuild. Certain Ravener-spawn within you can bring peace, and growth and fertility to the soil. They can rebuild what’s been burnt away. You do not have to be an instrument of destruction. You can choose to be different, and I think you were choosing to be different.”

He looked at Merzhin, the Saint picked up where the archwizard left off.

“You had begun to aid the people of Thameland,” Merzhin said. “You were helping in ways both subtle and obvious. Yet, now you seek to obliterate us again. I ask why? From one Child of Uldar to another...there are no more of his secrets that are lost to either of us, and no reason to hide our reasoning from each other.”

“I owe you no reasoning,” the Ravener’s voice reverberated through the cavern.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But understand this: we are all Uldar’s orphans,” Merzhin said. “We are all children of a dead god, and—for the first time—we can speak to each other. Does that not make you curious?”

Alex jumped in. “For thousands of years, you’ve had no one to share your reasoning with: now Uldar is dead and—if you persist in this—this will be your last chance to speak to other children of his. Is there nothing you want to say? Do you want to silently destroy us without airing your grievances?”

The General put a bit more of Uldar’s mannerisms into his tone, trying to reach the construct.

Silence followed for a time.

Then the Ravener spoke, seeming to bristle.

“An airing of grievances,” it said. “Yes. Perhaps that is in order. Know this, then: for a time, I did consider changing my purpose to be one where aid was given to Uldar’s kingdom. His petty, treacherous little kingdom.”

“Petty?” Drestra’s voice crackled.

“Treacherous?” Cedric scoffed.

“Yes, treacherous,” the Ravener continued. “If you know all that came before you, then you know why Uldar was forced to start the cycle. No sooner than your ancestors were safe from destruction, they gave no more thought to the one who had brought them life, light and succour. They abandoned your god when he needed them most. What is the mortal expression...? The stick and carrot. He gave the carrot to you mortals. He tried coddling you in return for one simple thing: your worship. Instead, you took his gifts and him for granted. And—when the carrot did not work—he was forced to use the stick.”

“So we struggle forever and the only release is death,” Merzhin said.

“Perhaps, that is one way of wording it. But mortal life is fleeting. You struggle. Then you die. Even Uldar struggled then died. What was good for him will be good for you,” the Ravener said.

Alex looked at Merzhin.

The Saint slowly shook his head.

The others tensed.

So this was the Ravener’s game...a ‘trial’.

But this was no trial.

This was—

“This is a punishment, isn’t it?” Alex asked. “You blame us for your creator’s death. So you’re going to punish us while disguising it as a trial.”

“That might be, but hidden motives will make no difference to the result,” the Ravener said simply.

Alex had heard enough.

There’d be no way to get the construct to stand down.

So it was time to throw it off-balance.

“Well, if that’s the way it’s going to be. When we win, I’m going to desecrate Uldar’s corpse. He was a coward. A piece of filth and a fool. He should’ve been the one to have the jester’s mark branded on his poisoned skin. I’m glad he’s dead: just one less shortsighted, cruel tyrant in the world.”

“...what did you say?” the construct’s tone spiked.

“I said that he was an addled, animalistic piece of garbage and I’m going to dump him somewhere like the trash that he was. ”

“Insolence!” the Ravener shouted. “You are the one that is filth. In his kindness Uldar granted you knowledge, protection and—”

‘Now!’ Alex thought to Claygon. ‘Fire at Uldar!’

The gems flared.

“You had your chance...you chose wrong...” Claygon said, turning his fire-gems on the god’s body.

“No!” the Ravener shouted.

Fire-beams lanced out, shooting across the lake at frightening speed.

The Ravener reacted, interposing itself between the beams and its creator’s body.

A blinding explosion ripped the air.

Chaos-tinged explosions shook the cavern.

The Ravener roared.

“Take down the Ravener-spawn and that construct!” Alex called to the team. “This is it! Make it count!”

The companions surged forward.

Suddenly, light flared from the heart of the flames.

A beam of searing energy launched, striking Claygon squarely in the chest.

Metal screeched.

The golem was pushed back, hitting a cavern wall, shattering stone. His iron form clanged like a bell, as though announcing the start of the Ravener’s trial.

The battle for Thameland’s future had begun.