Pandora Unchained 2: A Cultivation Progression Fantasy, page 12
“We!
“Summon in our name!
“A spirit recently deceased!
“A disincarnate soul forever trapped in the river of the dead!
“The remnant consciousness of Christopher Farley Chester!”
This time, there was a faint response from the altar, but the wind never came, and the ritual didn’t consume the crystals.
Astley and Daphne spoke a third time.
“We!
“Summon in our name!
“A spirit recently deceased.
“A disincarnate soul forever trapped in the river of the dead.
“The remnant consciousness of Corey Abraham Chester!”
This time, the offering was accepted. A silent wind took away the mana crystal offering and blew out the three candles before bringing forth a small boy no older than eight years old. “
“You called, summoner?” said the small spirit in a muffled voice. It was clear that this spirit didn’t have as much energy and could wink out at any moment.
“I have questions to ask,” said Astley.
“And I shall answer,” replied the spirit.
“What happened here before the demons attacked?” asked Astley.
“We were roasting chestnuts as our offering for the Winter Vigil,” said the boy like his parents before. “But my parents didn’t seem to care about the offerings. It was strange.”
Astley raised an eyebrow. “Did any other strange things happen that morning?”
“We started earlier than we usually do,” answered the boy. “My parents never said why. But maybe it had something to do with the man who visited?”
“Hurry,” said Stephan. “Someone’s coming!”
“Who was the man?” asked Astley. “Do you know him?”
“I don’t know his name,” said the boy. “I don’t talk to him often, but my parents do. He always wears a cloak and is all mysterious. I thought it was odd that he was visiting and that we didn’t even eat breakfast. We had to roast chestnuts for the Winter Vigil, my parents said. So that’s what we did.
“Oh, and he said something about—”
Unfortunately, the boy was unable to continue as two powerful cultivators arrived on the scene. One was Mayor Underwood, whom they’d seen the night before, and the other was Guild Master Fergusson from the Adventurers Guild.
“You dare perform witchcraft following this horrendous tragedy?” the mayor exclaimed. “After all the trouble you caused us?!”
“Pipe down, will you?” said Guild Master Fergusson. “I’m not used to so much screaming, much less before I’ve had my afternoon drink.”
“Drink!? Our town is on the verge of getting destroyed, and all you can think of is drinking?!” said the hysterical mayor.
“Urgh. Anyway, I heard there was a disturbance. What exactly were you guys doing?” said Guild Master Fergusson.
“Obtaining answers as to what exactly happened here,” said Gareth coldly. “A process that you rudely interrupted.”
“You—what?” said Guild Master Fergusson. “Honestly, I don’t really care what you’re doing. I just came because the mayor forced me. Something about supporting him.”
“And what exactly did you come here for, Mayor Underwood?” asked Gareth. “I’m sure you’re well aware that interfering in a Nighthawks investigation is a grave crime.”
“It’s you lot who’ve committed a grave crime,” said Mayor Underwood. “Not only did you come here and upset the balance, but you’ve also even despoiled the site of retaliation. Now, there’s no telling what the demons will do.”
“Is that all?” asked Gareth.
“I’ve just come to say that while I can’t prevent you from carrying out your investigation, your actions leave me no choice but to place an official complaint through the Adventurers Guild. Moreover, I’ve spoken to many of the townsfolk. They do not appreciate what you’re doing and have unanimously decided to refuse your service.”
Gareth’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know the consequences of what you’re saying?”
“What consequences?” said Mayor Underwood. “I’m simply passing along the message. We’ll naturally cooperate with your investigation and answer any questions you might have, but that doesn’t mean we need to feed you or provide you with housing.
“If you want to stay, then stay. You’re, of course, welcome within Chelsea’s walls, but please note that loitering in the streets after sunset is strictly prohibited. Good day to you, and I wish you luck in your investigation.”
Looking guilty about the entire affair, Guild Master Fergusson retreated to the city with the mayor. Lawrence made a few snide comments, and their group started arguing. But Sorin heard none of that because the Violence in his blood was acting up again, and this time, he had no outlet.
Moreover, the outburst this time was accompanied by a creaking in his bones, along with a distinct feeling that his bones had lost a bit of their integrity. A crack had appeared on a rune, but instead of the empowering feeling that usually accompanied this sort of cracking, the crack felt dead and absent of energy.
“Are you all right, Sorin?” Gareth asked, rousing Sorin from his state of hypercontraction.
“I’m fine,” said Sorin, unclenching his fists. “I just lost my temper, that’s all. The deaths, the mayor… It’s very difficult to process.”
Gareth nodded slowly. “I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to talk, I’m there for you. We’re all there for you. It’s not good to keep these feelings bottled up. Especially not during the winter.”
Sorin soon confirmed his worst fears. The rot in his bones had progressed faster than expected, and the year-long deadline given himself to treat his condition had now shrunk down to just over eleven months.
Moreover, it seemed that his corruption and the bone rot were somehow connected. Diagnosing the specifics of his condition had just become infinitely more complicated.
17
DIVERGENCE
It took Sorin a few minutes to control the Violence in his body. Gareth eyed him with concern, but thanks to the fox head medallion on his chest, the archer couldn’t detect anything amiss.
When they returned to town, they received a less-than-warm reception, as predicted. “I’m sorry, but I simply can’t house people who are here to cause trouble for this village,” said Wendy, the innkeeper. “I gathered all your things and kept an eye on them, so I’m sure no one touched them.”
“Are you not worried that your actions could be construed as interference with a Nighthawks investigation?” Gareth asked the woman.
“Hah!” said Wendy. “How could I worry about that when there are demons out there causing havoc because of your activities right now? That scholar of yours has spent so much time in our libraries that I’m sure she knows I’m related to the Chesters. They were all dearly loved by everyone in the village, and their death is a great loss to us all.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” muttered Sorin.
Wendy’s snarled. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sounds of their screams in the wind. Get out! You’re not welcome here!”
They received similar treatment at the two pubs in town, as well as the potion shop and Physician Morgan’s office. It was the same for the Adventurers Guild, but not for the same reasons.
“Itsh not that I don’t want to help you out,” said the drunken guild master apologetically. “Itsh just that the lasht time the guild protected people who broke the peashe, they burned this place down while I was shleeping. Wouldn’t want anything like that happening again, now, would we?”
“Isn’t this a little too abnormal?” Sorin asked Gareth. “There’s something off about their behavior. Something that’s on the tip of my tongue.”
Gareth didn’t seem to think so. “My father warned me about cases like these. Some people would rather dig into whatever hole they’ve dug themselves into and stay there than face any potential problems. That applies both to corruption cases and normal ones, so this gives us nothing to further our investigation.”
“It’s also not uncommon for insular villages like these to suddenly clam up or get suspicious,” said Astley. “My order is often at the wrong place at the wrong time. Whenever something goes wrong, it’s always outsiders who are to blame.”
“Isn’t it pretty clear that demons tore those farmers apart?” said Lawrence. “Seems stupid to think otherwise.”
“To them, demons are a familiar threat,” said Stephan, shaking his head. “Since their behavior changed, there must be a cause. We are the greatest change source of change in recent weeks, so it follows that we must be responsible for the attack.”
“It’s faulty logic, but it explains everything,” said Gareth. “We can only continue with our investigation during the day and stay outside the village at night.”
“Doesn’t that put us at risk against the demons?” asked Daphne. “It’s one thing if we’re in a fortified position, but I don’t think we’d stand a chance against tens of thousands of demons with two-star demons among their ranks.”
Gareth was also acutely aware of this problem. He pulled out a map of the local region and tried to find a defensible place where they could make camp.
“Since the village won’t take us, why don’t we stay in the mines?” suggested Astley. “As long as we keep watch, we shouldn’t have any issues.”
Gareth nodded. “The mines are probably our best bet. There are hills here, but they won’t prevent us from getting surrounded. Is anyone not in agreement? Great. Then, let’s make the best use of daylight. Astley, you’re not officially part of the investigation team, but we could use your help. With you temporarily joining our team, we’ll also have an easier time prying into the secrets of this Dark Lady and the Winter Vigil.”
Astley readily agreed, allowing them to split into three teams instead of two. It was important to have a magic user on each team in case of magical tampering. Sorin, who dabbled, barely made the cut and remained teamed up with Lorimer to free up Lawrence to perform his own type of investigation.
With nothing to tie them down, they managed to work through the remaining individuals on their list. The villagers and the farmers were unfriendly, but they succinctly answered any questions that were asked. They were willing to offend their team but very unwilling to break the corruption laws that were enforced by all twelve human-inhabited provinces.
It was dark by the time they were finished, and the winds were starting to pick up. They journeyed as a group through fresh snowfall toward the mountainside.
“Be careful, everyone,” said Astley as she led them through a large cave entrance. “Those mutated demons I fought earlier came from here. I wanted to investigate this place further but never got a chance.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking us somewhere safe and defensible?” inquired Daphne.
“Relax,” said Astley. “Demons are territorial, so other demons probably haven’t moved in yet. We should be relatively safe for the time being.”
“Lawrence, you lead the way,” commanded Gareth.
“Why do I have to lead the way?” asked Lawrence. “Doesn’t she have her summoned ink creatures?”
“That’s a fair point,” said Gareth. “Astley?”
“That same pack of wolves should do the trick,” said Astley, taking out her grimoire. She opened it with the golden key she wore at her neck, releasing a large amount of corruption that spilled into the cave and pooled at her feet.
She turned to the sixth page of her book and infused the page with her mana until the image of the four wolves came to life and jumped out of the picture. They drank in the corruption and used it to empower themselves.
“Inspect the hallway just ahead of us,” commanded Astley. “Remain exactly twenty feet ahead of me unless I instruct otherwise.” Without any hesitation, the wolves trotted twenty feet out and stayed there, as though frozen, until Astley took a few steps forward.
“I like the décor in this place,” said Lawrence, inspecting the cavern walls lit up by three light spells and a lightly glowing Lorimer. The walls were roughly hewn but supported by thick wooden arches. “It’s very homely. Just needs a touch of paint and a bit of wall art, that’s all.”
“This place reeks,” said Daphne, wrinkling her nose. “Did something die here, or something?”
As it turns out, something had. A few hundred feet into the cave, they stumbled upon rotting deer carcasses. Each one had large chunks of flesh bitten off them, and due to the elevated temperature deeper into the cave, the remains were crawling with so many insects and maggots that Daphne made a command decision and incinerated them.
“Next thing, it’ll be rats,” said Daphne, shivering. “I hate rats. Lorimer excluded, of course.”
“I wouldn’t worry about rats too much with Lorimer on our side,” said Sorin. “Instead, I’d worry about the poisonous smoke that’s belching out from these tunnels.”
“Poisonous smoke?” said Gareth, sniffing. “I thought I smelled something strange.”
“It’s barely noticeable,” said Sorin. “Also, it kills your sense of smell. Either way, it’s not a problem if the concentration remains at this level. We should be careful, though—this sort of gas tends to be heavier than air. There’s a good chance the toxicity will increase the deeper we go.”
They proceeded cautiously down the mine shaft. On the way, they encountered rats and bats and all sorts of insectile demons that had made the place their home. Roughly five hundred feet from the corpses, they stumbled upon a carved-out chamber that included stone beds and rotted rags. The place was relatively bare, making it clear that it wasn’t abandoned in a hurry.
“There’s a secret room here!” said Lawrence, walking a little further down the tunnel. “Do you want me to open it?”
“Be careful,” hissed Astley. “This requires delicacy and precision, as any damage could invalidate—” Her words cut off as the wall caved in.
“Urgh! What is that smell?” said Lawrence.
The rest of their group abandoned what they were doing and joined him at the entrance of the secret chamber.
“Congratulations, Lawrence,” said Sorin. “You found a secret liquor stash. By the looks of it, the barrels have rotted, and the liquor has evaporated. Most of it was absorbed by the stone formation, but the introduction of outside air is slowly releasing it.”
“Weird,” said Lawrence, holding up a bottle. “I don’t recognize a few of these letters.”
“Don’t you dare smash it!” said Astley, swiftly grabbing the bottle and cradling it like an infant. “This is a surprisingly good specimen. There’s linguistic variation here, as one might expect from a secluded village. Some of these letters match what I found in the library, but others I’ve never seen before.”
Sorin frowned. “You mean some of these are in the old tongue from before the Cataclysmic Emergence?”
“Not at all,” said Astley with a bright smile. “They’re new. They were made to describe certain sounds and words that developed in Chelsea.”
“But we didn’t hear any new sounds or words,” said Lawrence. “And I haven’t seen any of these letters anywhere else. Not in the mayor’s house, his office, or in any of the mining company offices.”
Astley shook her head. “These things come and go, and they seldom stick around. That’s especially the case in places with high traffic. What we’ve got here is just a slice of culture from a time when things weren’t completely harmonized with the twelve cities.”
“Speaking of culture, there’s an important decision to be made,” said Stephan. “Fire and roast meat or dry rations?”
Sorin shut down the notion of a fire immediately. “This poison I mentioned is flammable. Lighting a fire would be a very bad idea.”
“What doesn’t this poison do?” asked Stephan. “Out of curiosity.”
“I’d say it doesn’t support life, but I believe some of the life mages hypothesized that some demonic life forms might technically be able to live on the stuff much like we would air,” answered Sorin. “Anyway, it’s a common sulfur-based poison. We’re resistant to it as Bone-Forging cultivators. Those who should be most concerned about it are Daphne and Astley, who have the weakest constitutions. I’ll need to check on them every hour or so to make sure.”
“If you’re hungry, eat,” said Astley. “I’ll be studying the remains of this secret room and the chamber from before.”
In the end, Astley discovered a few more fragments of divergent writing, some remnants of clothes that stood out compared to standard fashion at the time, as well as some unique architectural features that Sorin saw as not a big deal but was apparently the find of the century.
Of special note were pillars they found erected in the mine shaft. They were ribbed in a fashion that Astley said was reminiscent of the architectural style of the ancient gods.
“I think we should focus less on mundane research and instead discuss our findings for today,” said Daphne, finally fed up with her speculation.
“Don’t you mean our lack of findings?” asked Sorin. “Because Lorimer and I didn’t find squat.”
“I’m afraid none of the teams did,” said Garreth, putting down his notebook. “That just leaves Lawrence, the terrible notetaker. Spill it—what did you find out?”
“I didn’t really find out much of anything,” said Lawrence. “Largely because the people I was going to monitor were absent. Except for the guild master. He was drunk out of his mind and at the guild the entire time.”
“Absent?” asked Gareth with a frown. “You mean busy doing something else?”
“They weren’t physically present in the village,” clarified Lawrence. “I mean, I could be wrong—this stupid snow interferes with my abilities. But I walked fairly close to every building in town and didn’t catch a whiff of them.”
“Did they leave town, then?” suggested Stephan.
“Did they activate any strange devices?” pitched Daphne.
“I didn’t really see them to begin with,” said Lawrence. “Which is very strange given how hot on our tails they were yesterday. So, I did some looking. I inspected the mayor’s house and swiped one of his ties. I went to the mining companies and stole a few signed documents and some of the pens they used. I also went to the Mages Guild, but I couldn’t find anything that belonged to the guild master without tripping some spell alarms.”
