Soul Weaver, page 43
part #1 of The Seeded Realms Series
“I can’t do that… not without my father’s approval…” she mumbled.
“You are the viceroy and have the authority to do so,” he said, his voice flat. “Surrender it.”
The princess’s eyes twitched, and she looked at him in disgust. “Who are you?” she cried. “Some Jannatin dog using monsters to his advantage? I will never surrender anything to you!”
Aziel tilted his head at that, momentarily confused, then laughed. “Ah, my mistake. I see I failed to properly introduce myself. We are not Jannatin. I am Aziel, Faction Leader of the Fallen.”
The princess blinked, as she tried to process this. “The Fallen?” she asked. “The new faction?”
“Indeed. Now, this is the last time I will ask. Surrender your claim to me… immediately.”
The princess didn’t reply. She glared at him, and though the fear was still visible on her features, she still shook her head slightly.
“So be it,” Aziel said, and lifted one arm in the air.
Several Grauda ran out of the trees and quickly disarmed the Charmed guards, before grabbing the princess and forcing her and her escort down on the grass.
Celia, who had been petting the horses during this time, now took a few steps toward Aziel with a worried look on her face.
“Are you sure there is no other way?” she asked softly.
Aziel shook his head. “I gave them a chance to back down, and now they will suffer for their crimes.”
Celia glanced at the disarmed humans, then back at him before she nodded reluctantly. With a sigh, she moved out of his sightline, bringing Whiteridge back into view. The bell had fallen silent now, and he could see activity in the towers as men and women prepared for whatever was to come.
Aziel pulled the red book from an inner pocket of his jacket and turned to a page he had marked. He took a few moments to reread Vhal’s comments and the decrypted symbols required for the spell he needed. He had to get the symbols and order right, or things might unravel badly for both him and his followers. A failed attempt at this spell would leave only one option open—a real battle.
Aziel glanced at the princess and remembered her words. She was right; his Grauda would not fare well in this open field and against walls guarded by trained soldiers, and such a battle would not send the message he needed the other factions to receive. He tried to refocus on the book, but a wave of fatigue made the words blur in front of him. Time was quickly running out.
He shut the book and returned it to his inner pocket. He could hear the guards behind him, now released from Celia’s Charm, gabbling in confusion as they tried to understand what was going on. But Aziel took a deep breath and raised both hands toward Whiteridge, shutting out everything but the task before him.
First, he began to release copious amounts of fire mana, creating a red cloud that grew larger and larger until it began to curl and roil. He grunted as the mana began to form the activation symbol, taking shape in the air in front of him.
“What are you doing?” Lucienne screamed, but he ignored her. As a fire weaver herself, she must have known that the amount of mana Aziel was releasing was too much for a simple fireball.
Aziel instead began to focus on the second symbol, then the third. One after the other, red symbols began to form before him, their glow vivid and shimmering. By the fifth, his vessel began to quiver under the strain of both the increasing cost of the spell and the ongoing drain.
A bead of sweat formed on Aziel’s brow as he formed yet another empower symbol and added it to the last, before starting work on the next. He felt the muscles of his arm burn and his legs begin to tremble under the crushing sense of weakness that was slowly engulfing him. Again his estimations had been off—the spell used far more mana then he thought it would. But it was too late to stop now.
By the time he was done, a glyph made of a total of eight symbols glowed ominously before him, its very presence causing the air to swirl around it. It waited for him to release it upon his foes.
Aziel glanced back at the princess, who seemed to be in some sort of daze as she stared at the rank seven fire spell he had just woven. He also noticed her female guard look in the direction of Whiteridge, terror on her face.
“Your Highness, please!” the female guard screamed. “I beg you, my husband is in there!”
The princess didn’t respond.
Aziel didn’t let that perturb him. He began to raise his hands, and the finished symbol responded by glowing brighter and larger. With every inch it grew, it pulled more mana from him, and just as Aziel felt that he could not take the strain any longer, he let out a visceral grunt and pushed it forward.
A loud sizzling noise followed as the symbol burst into flames and scorched everything in its wake. It kept glowing brighter until it suddenly collapsed into itself and formed what looked like a small sun, which shot into the air above Whiteridge at a blistering speed.
All eyes followed the ball of flames as it disappeared into the clouds. A moment of silence followed as everyone held their breath, waiting for something to happen.
And then it did.
A deafening bang echoed across the land, followed by an explosion from above. The clouds suddenly and violently parted to make way for the massive symbol that was hiding behind them.
It was the exact symbol Aziel had woven, but it had expanded to a size that easily covered the entire town below, its red glow painting everything in the surrounding area in its light.
“I can’t do it,” he heard the princess say, behind him.
Aziel turned and saw her look at him, an expression of total defeat on her face. None of her former confidence remained.
“I can’t do it, there must be something else,” she pleaded. “Just… stop this madness,”
“There is nothing else, princess. You and everyone else must learn the consequences of going against me and my faction. Those people will serve as an example and will pay the price for your crimes and unwillingness to submit.”
Without breaking eye contact with her, he clenched his fist and opened it again. Aziel again grunted as another portion of his mana was suddenly sucked from him and an ear-splitting noise rang out from the symbol in the sky above.
The symbol began to crack across its lines. Those cracks gave way to more cracks, until the whole creation shattered into what looked like tens of thousands of tiny little shards. Only their glow and sheer number made them visible from this distance.
At that same moment, the gates of the town swung open and a group of seventy or so people ran out. Aziel swung around when he sensed their vessels approaching—they were indeed soldiers, he saw, but they didn’t seem to be armed. They were simply trying to run. Behind him, the same female guard began screaming.
“Kaeden! Run!” she yelled, and a Grauda male prepared to slam his spear into her—but Celia grabbed him to stay the blow.
Aziel looked at her curiously, but she did not explain, so he focused again on the spell. Sending out the last of the mana required to release it, he struggled with the effort, then let his hands drop to his sides as he tried to control his now labored breathing.
What came next happened slowly. Instead of the spell simply activating all at once, the fiery shards began to fall in a more staggered manner, almost like a light drizzle, soft and harmless.
Then the first tiny shard smashed into the side of the half-built fort at the top of the ridge. It exploded, a chunk of the stone wall flying outward from the force of the blast—and this was followed by another explosion, then another.
A cacophony of noise followed, as what had started as a drizzle turned into a heavy downpour, with each tiny red shard exploding on contact, consuming houses, inns, and people.
Even the initial screams that could be heard from the town were drowned out by the explosions, and Aziel, his people, the princess, and the bound guards all stared in silence at the complete destruction of Whiteridge. Large plumes of black smoke rose, replacing the once serene blue skies, and thunder and purple lightning erupted above. By the time the last shard completed its descent to the ground, the landscape as far as they could see was lit by the raging fires that engulfed the town and surrounding area.
Aziel stared at the aftermath, his heart pounding. He had known what his spell would do—he was under no illusion about its destructive capacity—but even with the constant stream of mana he was getting from people he killed, the amount paled in comparison to spell’s mana cost. His vessel continued to tremble painfully. He had to finish this, and now.
He turned to Lucienne and stared down at her. “Princess,” he said.
She met his gaze slowly as ash began to fall from the sky.
“I swear to you that I will march to your capital and do the same to every town, every city, every hamlet I find on my way. I will grind your faction to dust… or you can swallow your pride and give up your claim… now,” he said, doing everything he could to hide the desperation in his voice.
“You’re a monster,” the princess whispered.
“Only to my enemies,” he replied, coldly.
Their attention was diverted by a hiss from one of the Grauda males. It was the same female guard as before. She was trying to push her way through the Grauda, and as Aziel followed her frantic gaze, the reason became clear.
The group of humans who had run out of the town had survived. They must have lain low until the spell’s effects had passed, and they were now fleeing from the flames behind them.
Aziel sighed and took a few steps forward before raising his hand to the sky. This was followed by a few loud clicks from the Grauda, and one full division ran out of the forest with their bows in their hands. They quickly readied themselves to let their arrows fly toward the helpless humans.
The princess stared in utter shock at these preparations, and the female guard wore such a pained and hopeless expression that Aziel hesitated for a moment before he steeled himself again.
Just as he was about to give the order, he felt a hand grip his arm. Celia was at his side, her lips pressed tightly together.
“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice full of pain. “Your message has been delivered, anything more… anything more would just be cruel.”
Aziel stared into her golden eyes, his expression blank. “If those people were us, they wouldn’t have stopped.”
“I know…” she said, and she let go of his hand in order to clasp her arms around him.
Aziel sighed, and the fury he had not noticed growing within him began to fade as he slowly lowered his hand and wrapped it around Celia. The female Grauda who led the archers clicked her mandibles twice at the sight of this, before she and her division slowly melted back into the forest.
Gently, Aziel separated himself from Celia and glared at the princess who flinched at his gaze.
“Surrender your claim,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “Do not force me to repeat what has happened here.”
The princess blinked, her face tinged with the red glow of the flames from Whiteridge. “I’ll do it,” she said, her voice trembling, as she tried to fight the tears welling in her eyes. “If you promise not to harm my people, I’ll do it.”
Aziel knelt in front of her and, tenderly, wiped away the single tear that lay on her cheek. She stiffened at his touch.
“I know you might find my next words hollow,” he said softly. “But I did not enjoy taking their lives. I firmly believe that this was a necessary evil and a repayment of debts… I promise to not harm your people as long as they do not harm me or mine.”
The princess didn’t reply. Taking her silence for consent, Aziel opened his faction log and approved his faction claim to the Central Wilds.
A notification appeared:
The Fallen have met the required prerequisite and have claimed the region known as the Central Wilds.
All other claimants have been notified. Total number of current claimants: four.
The princess’s eyes became distant for a moment, before the circular mark on Aziel’s wrist began to heat up again and several notifications flashed before him, the gray runes appearing one after another.
The Kingdom of Maiv has renounced it’s claim to the region known as the Central Wilds and instead offer it’s support to the Fallen’s claim.
The Fallen now has a majority claim.
Congratulations, your faction has claimed the Central Wilds.
Further options have been unlocked in your faction log.
Warning, newly claimed region has not yet been pacified.
Aziel let out a sigh of relief as his trait came into effect, and he felt the massive drain on his dwindling mana taper off into a barely noticeable trickle. He couldn’t believe how different the feeling was. After days of constant and ever-increasing draining, his body had become almost accustomed to the sensation. This change felt wonderful.
Bringing up his log, he winced at what he saw. Barely fifteen percent of his total mana was left. Making it back in time would be a challenge, even with his new claim.
Clearing his throat, he placed a hand on Lucienne’s shoulder.
“Collect your people and return home, princess,” he said softly. “My Grauda will escort you to the edge of the forest. I hope this is the last and only reminder I need to give you.”
The humans didn’t waste any time doing as he commanded. The princess and her guard quickly collected the survivors and made their way south. Aziel assumed they were heading for Golan, the capital.
He again glanced at what had once been Whiteridge and the still-raging fires… then up at the black clouds that now completely blocked the morning sun from reaching them. Aziel knew the likely ramifications of his actions, but he still believed they had been necessary.
The surrounding nations needed to fear and respect his faction. He needed every human to know that the Fallen were here to stay and would bring complete destruction to any who opposed him. They couldn’t guess that this display of power had almost drained him of his mana.
A familiar chuckle sounded from behind him, and Aziel turned to see Vhal approaching.
“Simply marvelous, my lord,” Vhal said effusively. “A masterful use of the empowered Crystalline Fire spell.”
“Can we go home now?” Celia interrupted. “The ash makes me sneeze.”
“Yes we shou—” Aziel eyes opened wide as a piercing pain shot through his core.
He fell to one knee and clutched his chest, as he felt the drain on his mana explode back to its previous levels. The shock and suddenness of it caused his vessel to shake and churn as it attempted to regulate itself quickly to control the leak.
Warning: you are suffering from critical injuries and require healing!
Aziel felt his muscles contract, and his fingers and toes curled inwards as he screamed out in pain. He could hear Vhal and Celia shouting something, but no meaning came to him. In his short moments of lucidity, he was able to feel the heat radiating out of his wrist and read the runes that flashed before him. He tried to swallow a lump that had developed in his throat as he felt overwhelmed at the unfairness of it all.
He was going to die, and it was all due to the World Seed moving against him.
Kadora Announcement: Region claiming requirements have been added.
Warning: the Jannatin Empire has contested your claim to the Central Wilds. Due to there being a number of other claimants equal to your majority claim, a total of three days will be given to decide whether to support or reject the contested claim.
Warning, your faction has lost control of the Central Wilds.
Aziel looked up to the darkened sky. His last act in this world would be the destruction of an entire town. He had failed, and as his vision began to darken, the last thing he saw was Celia’s tearful face, her mouth opened wide in a scream.
Chapter 29
Aziel fluttered his eyes open—then instinctively covered them with his hand to protect them from the bright light that shone from above. He groaned from the pain which shot through his right arm as he moved it. He was tired, and terribly confused, but there was one overwhelming sensation that eclipsed all others: a deep ache. Everything ached.
He glanced to one side and realized that he was back in one of the bedrooms within Soul’s Rest. But how did he get here? He closed his eyes again in an attempt to organize his thoughts, but all he could remember was the agony and his submission to his inevitable death. His wrist began to heat up as a notification appeared before him.
Warning: you have gained a new condition, Wounded Vessel. Mana cost of all spells and skills increased by 100%. Condition will remain until Vessel has been given sufficient time to rest.
Aziel sighed. That was to be expected, he supposed. He shifted his body and grunted as another twang of pain shot through him, but it was the soft groan that sounded from his side which caught his attention. He turned to his right and saw a familiar figure seated beside his bed, her head resting on her folded arms.
He smiled at the sight of the succubus, then frowned when he noticed the state of her hair and face. Celia must have been through a storm for her hair to be in such a mess, and the puffiness under her eyes made it clear she had been crying.
He slowly raised his arm, wincing at how difficult even such a small movement was, and gently touched her arm.
“Celia,” he said, and was surprised by how hoarse his voice was. He sounded like he hadn’t had a drink of water in weeks.
Celia moaned in response, then buried her head more deeply between her arms.
Aziel felt too weak to move his arm again so he coughed as loud as he could, making Celia jerk upright. She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing, as tears began to well up in her eyes.
“Celia—” he tried to say, but instead was slapped across the face so hard, he felt his brain wallop the side of his skull. Her movement had been so fast he didn’t even have a chance to react.
Aziel shook his head and turned back, only to be slapped again.
The third time he was prepared for, and he used all his strength to raise his hand in time to grip Celia’s arm before the strike. But instead of stopping there, she lunged forward at him and began slapping him with her other hand.
