timewalk

  Seth

  Seth trudged onward, his legs in excruciating pain both from the uing pace set by their tormentor seated high upon his zombie horse and from the encroag blight that rogressively eating him from within. He hadn’t found many opportuo check – the colr’s pulsion was seldom rexed for any reason – but when he had finally rolled up his tr, he had been horrified to find bck weeping sores and withering flesh.

  He had spent several days with his skeleton minders, distributing blighted patchwork horrors throughout the forest, and what the abominations were doing to the trees and animals was identical to what seemed to be happening to his legs. He walked because he had no choice, enduring the agony because he was not permitted to do otherwise.

  One of the other captured youths had colpsed yesterday when they had finally left the forest and begun to cross the pins. His leg had beeirely withered away by the blight, and the neancer had simply ripped his wailing soul from his body with some horrific dark spell, raising his instantly dead body as a zombie instead. Seth’s mind had fled to its dark hole for several hours, and after that, he had resolved not to fall under any circumstances.

  Alexander Gray.

  He had finally learhe name of their tormentor, the neahe Dryad, who was being dragged along the path by her bindings behind one of the zombies had finally woken. She had woken screaming, desote wails filled with heart-wreng loss arayal, until Alexander had the zombie beat her unscious.

  When she finally awoke a sed time, she cursed Alexarying to use her magic, but whatever poison he had fed her seemed to make her creations fizzle, or e out already withered and dead. Now, she was tied to a post in their camp, simply weeping. She seemed weak, lost, and insoble – ah found within his heart a wreng guilt.

  “I’m going to be busy, do not disturb me. And don’t leave the camp.” Alexander anded, addressing the remaining prisoners, all of them wearing the same colrs, sp the bck marks of the blight iion. He had called them his sacrifice gang and instructed them to be joyful that they would be killed to further his power. He seemed to actually believe he was doing them a great service by allowing them to serve him with their lives. Seth had never loathed someoh as much passion as he did Alexander. Gran always used to say that nobody in this world was truly evil – that everybody had redeemiures. You were wrong, he thought, grateful only that she was gone and did not have to ehis alongside him.

  As he left, Seth suddenly realized Alexander had made a rare mistake. Seldom did he leave them unsupervised without a and like ‘don’t move’. His instru, ‘don’t leave the camp,’ left Seth with a surprising amount of freedom. Immediately, he reached for his colr, but as normal, it was as if his hands refused to budge past a certain point. Simirly, he couldn’t even move wheried to free his panions.

  He gnced around the camp, careful in case the neancer was still watg, but he found no sign of him. Their camp, such as it was, had beeablished in the remains of a logging town smaller even than Lyton – the former inhabitants already culled to feed Alexander Gray’s growing army. There were five crude stone buildings, one of which was the mill. Careful not to attrauch attention, he walked over to the rger building, searg for a hiding spot. He knew he was going to die, but he retrieved the as from his pockets, tossing two or three that had bee blighted and hiding the small remaining handful ione woodshed, before walking back to his spot.

  I ’t free myself. But…

  Halfway back to his group, he gnced over at the weeping Dryad, still firmly bound to the stake. The zombies were standing nearby, but he had learhat they were uo aless Alexander directly ahem. Feeling his heart in his throat, Seth cautiously made his way over to the woman. At every painful step, he fully expected something or someoo angrily front him, but nothing happehe camp remained quiet – seemingly without volition absent the neancer himself. Not even his panion prisoners bothered to look his resumably having given in to despair.

  He crouched down and examihe Dryad. She was in remarkably poor shape, already covered with bck sores and withered skin. She bore terrible scrapes and bruises from being dragged aelessly. And she was dying. Seth was no healer, but the graying leaves in her hair and the dark lines pulsing just below her skin told him she was suffering and wouldn’t st long in the camp. He had no idea if she would fare well on her own, but if it were him, anything would be better than here.

  “Will you beat me too?” The Dryad’s hoarse whisper caught him by surprise, but although he tried, his throat spasmed shut wheried to answer.

  With quients, hidden by his body, he quickly uhe ropes binding her, and stepped back, trying to walk back to his spot nontly. To his immense surprise, nothi out to kill him, and when he finally returo his pce waiting with the sacrifice group, he turned and gnced back.

  The Dryad’s eyes bore into him, with an unreadable expression. But she no longer wept. With a slow nod to him, she quietly got up and vanished into the brush surrounding the camp.

  May good fortune find you, Great Mother of the Deep Woods, he thought, sending the beion after her disappearing form. Somehow… He might not be able to save himself but saving – at least, trying to save her – lifted a weight of guilt off his shoulders, and for a short while, he felt a little better.

  Alexander Gray Alexander released the senses of his zombie troll and smiled to himself. His pn was unfolding perfectly – like clockwork. He had judged the boy to be one of those personalities that desperately wao do good – a white knight at heart – and he had just been proved right.

  So easily are they maniputed.

  He required Lirasia to be free, but she o believe it was not by his hand, and the boy had just pyed his unwitting part in this charade perfectly. Lirasia, ied with the blight, the Master’s curse, and suffering several days of Domain Withdrawal from her beloved forest, would be starving fh-density nature mana. With his destru of her home, she had o return to – the once great Lirasian forest was nootent source of death affinity mana and undead blight, rather than nature.

  That leaves only the dungeon. And hence his pn. She could detect high-density nature mana somehow – of this he was certain. She would flee, and like a starving rat, lead him directly to the dungeon’s nature mana she so craved, ting his elevation to importan the Shadow cil. Perhaps he might even catch the eye of the Master, Nevyn Eld.

  All he had to do was follow her right to it – and for that, he had the perfect tool. It erhaps his most potent skill, and one he hadn’t fully mastered, but for this task, it would be perfect.

  He retrieved the corpses of two gray wolves, killed by his zombies ba the forest, and dumped them out on the ground in front of him.

  “Arise,” he anded, feeding his skill a substantial k of mana. Instead of raising them as mindless zombies or skeletons, he raised them as Specters. Partially incorporeal, the wolves stood, gl at him with intelligend ing.

  Spectral Gray Wolf – Wolf, Specter – level 47Spectral Gray Wolf – Wolf, Specter – level 45

  Your reserved mana has increased by +304.

  “Follow the Dryad, but don’t be seen,” he anded, and they immediately slunk away into the bush, barely stirring the leaves, their padded feet making not even the slightest sound. He followed them with his mind for a while, watg through their eyes, experieng the st of the blighted trail they immediately picked up, before releasing the e. That was the advantage of specters – they were Greater Undead, capable of retaining both intelligend their css and skills. They were infinitely more useful than zombies and skeletons. He could give them plex ands to carry out, and in this case, they would retain their perception and trag skills – invaluable in the pursuit of his goals.

  Neancer is truly the most versatile css. It was too bad his minions were so expeo maintain.

  Once his rat led him to the dungeon, he would follow with his blight and his army of undead and seize the entire area for his own. Nevyn Eld was sure to be pleased.

  He smiled.

  Blended with the shadows and standing up against a densely mossed oak, let his eyes range across the lush growth of the valley up ahead, taking ierrain, marking good spots for cover, and keeping a for any movement or dangerous monsters.

  His Explorer skill itched. He had been struggling to pinpoily how he might describe the feeling, but ‘itched’ seemed to e closest. While his eyes took in the gnarled a oaks, den with moss and vines, and the myriad creatures that made their homes in the damp nooks and ies of the branches, his Explorer skill prickled in the back of his mind, reminding him stantly that this pce was no normal jungle.

  The stant vigince wore at him, drawing his mind into a backdrop of ay and stress, always searg for how the jungle would spring a surprise on him – something ued and deadly.

  Looks clear, he thought, taking a deep breath to shake off the worry. They had decided to try the opposite dire from the library entrance, moving away from the spawning pool of light, and the further scouted, the more he noticed the dramatic difference. Gohe golden butterflies and shining bugs, repow with wisps of green mana flitting among the trees, tiny frogs ales that crawled and hopped, snakes and birds – all subtly ed by the chaotise mana of the jungle – all of them an unsubtle remio his jangled sehat he didn’t uand this pce.

  Quickly, he pivoted on his heel, making his way back to the others, trag his own path through the forest entirely by memory and the sense of dire to his friends that came from his new Sense Prey trag advance. With a few moments of parative rexation in his alertness, his miuro the problem that had been b him for a couple of days now.

  The Wanderer. He had passed the strange deity’s trial and tracked his way through the dao find the shrine, and his offer had surprisingly been accepted. He was still ecstatic that he had earned a godly patroill barely able to believe it was even real. But that had led to his drum. He had a patronage, and he had no idea how to use it.

  Godly Patrohe Waraits: Trag, Dexterity, Deity, Stealth, Explorer, Perception, Discovery, Movement, LuckReputation gained enhahe reputation of the Wanderer. As your patron’s reputation grows, boons and enhas may increase.Minor enhao Movement and Perception skills in uncharted or fotten pces.Mana: Offer an item of value as a request for the insights of the Wanderer.Entment – Tithe

  He studied the patronage entment for the huh time. The enhao his movement and perception had been quite noticeable – while it did nothing in town, down here in this chaotid fotten jungle, his senses were most certainly enhanced, as was his speed moving through the jungle.

  But he had wasted tons of mana trying to figure out the active ability to request insight. It behaved much like a skill did – perhaps closest io one of his general skills like Identify. He could intuitively uand how to power it with his mana, but nothing happened. His mana was ed, but he had no idea if it was w or not. He tried once again, but his mana simply disappeared.

  The crux of the problem was he didn’t uand how to ‘offer an item’ or even what stituted one of value. Nor what form the insight would take, and whether he would be able t when it happened. His eyes were drawn once again to the trait list, h o one.

  Luck. Ultimately, this seemed to be the problem. The scarce few legends about the Wanderer suggested that she would appear at her whim, helping or hindering without much rhyme or reason. Leading to the idea that she might be the favored patron of did cards and other endeavors of luck. Perhaps he couldn’t figure it out because he simply wasn’t that lucky?

  He rounded an enormous tree to find his friends fully absorbed in watg a strange creature crawling along a rge branch. It seemed to be an amorphous mound of green fronds that acted as limbs carrying it along in slow, measured lootion. In its wake, it left a lush growth of moss where the branch had previously been bare.

  “It’s really cute,” Ali said, captivated by the animated mossy mound.

  Reag instantly to the sound of her voice, the moss creature leapt from the branch with shog speed, revealing a hidden mouth full of sharp teeth.

  In a fsh, drew his bow and released, striking the monster midway to Ali’s head with an indest arrow that ya from its attack path, pinning it to the tree behind it.

  You have defeated Moss Creeper – Moss – level 4.

  He stopped for a moment, bow still held ready, mistrustful of the surprisingly easy kill. But nothing else moved or leapt out to attack them, so he let his skills drop.

  “Ooh, the legendary hunter returns to save us from the scary monster!” Mato ughed.

  Inwardly, rolled his eyes. While Mato might cope with surprise and stress with humor, he sometimes found it a little annoying. At least he had anticipated a more dangerous threat and his surprise had been that it was too easy – the other way around would have been a real problem.

  “I found the path through the valley,” he said, ign Mato’s joke arieving the surprisingly dense Moss Creeper from where he had pi to the tree, handing it to Ali who indicated she wa for her magic.

  As soon as Ali was done, he led the way deeper into the jungle, keeping his eyes peeled for danger while his thoughts returo the problems of his patronage once again.

  “What’s b you?” Mato’s voice startled him out of his worries, and he gnced over at his friend. Mato made a palm-up queryiure with his left hand.

  “It’s nothing,” he replied quickly, looking back at the trail. He had known Mato for years, and his typical approach to the emotions and feelings of others had all the finesse of a stampede of blind oxen. However, at times he could be annoyingly perceptive – usually, exactly when appreciated it least.

  “Hmph,” Mato snorted, heavy on the disbelief.

  “Your ent was a little unkind,” finally admitted.

  “What, the legendary hunter?”

  “Yes.” Sometimes he wondered how his friend could be so dense. Or at least sider that others might take his ents a different way than he did.

  “But you have a godly patronage. Nobody else does.”

  “Yes, and I ’t figure out how to use it.” And there it was, the surge of embarrassment and shame. Yes, he had dohe unthinkable and earhe patronage of the Wanderer. And now Mato had forced him to admit he wasn’t smart enough to figure out how to use it. It stung.

  “I’m sorry,” Mato said, sounding so remorseful felt as if he had kicked a puppy. Aargh, Mato! Holy? “I didn’t know.”

  “Just… fet it,” answered, turning on his Explorer skill to see if there were any moracks he might have missed earlier, though he had carefully studied the ground both ways.

  “What happens when you try it?” Ali asked.

  “Nothing, my mana just vanishes.” Now everyone was curious, and the subject would be impossible to avoid.

  “What did you offer?” Malika asked.

  “Whatever I have in my ring,” he answered. He could tell they were just trying to help, but he really wished they would just let it drop. “I think I’m just unlucky, and the Wanderer is a patron of the Luck trait.”

  “Why don’t you flip a ?” Ali asked.

  “What?”

  “Didn’t you say that’s how you activated the shrine?”

  “I…” It ’t be that easy, it? He pulled out another of the Dal’mold s, gng at the gleaming with its a imprint still fresh on its surface. Flipping it into the air, he eled his mana into the patron entment.

  The flipped end over end, easily tracked with his heightened reflexes and enhanced perception, but as it reached the apex, it simply vanished with a barely audible pop and a shower of sparks.

  You have gaihe Blessing of the Wanderer+12 to Dexterity.+8% to Movement speed.Blessing – Duration: 3 hours.

  It worked… It was such a plicated rush of flig emotions that he struggled to uhem for quite a few moments, staring at the notification and the spot where the gold vanished. He felt his face heating up so fast he’d start leaking steam in a sed.

  “Nice!” Matht him back to reality.

  “Did it work?” Ali asked, with barely suppressed excitement.

  “It worked,” he answered, sharing the buff he had just received.

  “That’s impressive,” Malika said. “I’m jealous! I want a movement speed enhaoo.”

  “I feel stupid,” he admitted finally. The relief that his achievement would be useful warred with his frustration that it had taken Ali to figure out the trick.

  “Why?”

  “Because I couldn’t figure it out myself.”

  “You would have figured it out soon enough,” Ali responded with a casual fidehat he certainly didn’t feel.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Brain that size?” Malika scoffed. “Please.”

  “You figured out the shriself, and that had even fewer clues,” the Fae expined early. “I’m sure it wouldn’t have taken more than a day or two without help. You would have systematically worked through everything you knew, and you would have ended up with the shrine and tried that.”

  “I guess so,” he answered, surprised at how well Ali knew his mental process already. He had been about to get out his notebook and start eing everything he had heard or experienced reted to the Wanderer, so she likely would have been proved correct too.

  “It’s an expensive enhahough,” he finally added. A gold each time would bankrupt him even faster than his o fund his mana potions.

  “Seems worth it,” Malika answered. “Not for everything, but for the harder fights.”

  As usual, Malika had a clear insight into the tactical value of these things. One gold in his ste wouldn’t do him any good, whereas the movement aerity boost on a challenging fight might save his life. But now he had more questions than he had started with. I use smaller s? Are the enhas random? Or I influehem? Either way, it was likely to be an expensive ability to test.

  timewalk