A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands - Book 3: Chapter 2: Testament

Under intense scrutiny, some things become vague and indistinct, while others take on a perfect crystal clarity.

– The Human Question, by Gideon de Salavia 378 A.C.

A Power and hunger that knew no bounds burst from me on wings of black lightning. I had become a willing conduit for eldritch forces far beyond mortal ken. I was rewarded with the savage display of an elder god’s wrath. Incandescent light, bright enough to banish the darkness, and the cloying stench of ozone filled the air as my magic consumed the Iron Golem with wanton glee. Even at this distance, I could feel the heat as the air around the giant threatened to burst into flames.

For a few moments I was completely hypnotized, the display before me an energetic show of one of the most primal powers of the universe. There was a truth to be found here, if only my soul could grasp it. However, the temperature continued to rise and fearing for my own safety, I backed off as several metric tons of iron bonded with the air itself in a release of white-hot energy.

After what seemed like an eternity, but could have only been minutes, a solemn silence filled the underground temple of the Mother of Monsters. A silence that was only broken by the hiss and crackle of superheated stone. A notification filled my inner vision and, soon after, a sense of accomplishment filled my heart. Rust, oh elusive rust, you had grown to be more than just a simple curse spell.

You have completed a Divine Ordeal.

You have gained 200 experience.

You have gained 1 Luck.

Then, of all things, I felt cheated. What of the experience for killing the iron giant? Anger, that dubious and unthinking friend, perched itself upon my shoulder before the logical part of my mind presented an answer that drove it away. Like the Praxis Guard, the Golem had been a construct, a mere thing without life and soul. This all but proved one of my earlier hypotheses on the variable nature of experience. To gain experience, in any meaningful amounts, I needed to have unique experiences. And every life that I took, was by its very nature unique.

Along with the increase to my Luck attribute, the spell had given me the brief joy of utterly trivializing what should have been an epic struggle. But what truly gave me savage delight was the look of perplexity on Iasis’ face. An expression that I would keep as a private treasure, only to look upon and sample when the fancy took me. Inviolate and mine. Mine and mine alone. But too soon did it fade, like the morning mist, to be replaced by a stony countenance. The gods of this world were not perfect, they were flawed. Nothing more than children granted power that should have never been theirs.

“What manner of pyromancer are you? To overcome such a mighty servant of an old creation with such ease?” asked the goddess of me, unable to hide the growing incredulity in her voice, “Only a mortal who grows close to the end of their Ma’at could command such puissant fire, yet I sense that you do not seek the frenzy hidden within the flames…”

Indeed, the gods of this world, at least this one, were not omniscient. This was a far cry from their portrayed perfection in my world, as espoused in the books of modern misguided religious practice. And if they were flawed, they were unworthy of reverence and through their flaws they could be manipulated. They could be bargained with. It was worth a try.

“I will answer, if you will first answer a question of my own,” I returned, hoping my voice sounded steady and sure. Iasis arched an eyebrow in mock amusement before nodding her assent with a royal’s authority.

“What of my companions? Those who were near me when I was attacked by that worm of the desert, are they alive and well?” I realized that, thinking of my companions even now, in the face of such a terrible being, spoke well of my character. Perhaps I truly was the hero of my own story after all.

Floating sinuously through the air, she completed a loop around me, her eyes roved over me as if inspecting for any hidden mystery before she replied, “Of all the questions you would ask of a Divine, you would first seek to merely assuage your worry of your companions? I had expected something along the lines of how to achieve greater heights of power, or the secret to immortality. How terribly virtuous of you… and such a banal question, too. Refreshingly so.”

“We are more than just selfish desire,” I snapped, the vehemence in my voice shocking even me.

“As expected of a servant of my sister, oh so very sure of yourself. Of what makes you, you. This will only make marking you as one of my own even more satisfying. Very well!” she clapped her hands together in false delight before finally answering my question, “Let it be known that Iasis is generous with her grace. They live, for now. Brought deeper into the desert by the Guardian, they clung to its hide like parasites. Exhausted from its duty, the worm returned to the depths. Even now, they travel towards this place, though how they still cling to life is a mystery, even to me. Ever has your kind been one of my more tenacious creations.”

Relief flooded through me and I uttered my gratitude, “You have my thanks.” My friends were safe, and I had not failed in my current quest to escort Larynda to Al-Lazar.

“Be that as it may. You have yet to complete my Test,” she breathed huskily, and I felt myself drawn by her intoxicating influence. “I must choose a suitable opponent for a powerful mortal such as you. Something… something poetic,” she drawled, running a finger across the line of my of my jaw before playfully tapping me on my nose.

My sword would not strike a futile blow against that which it could not touch, nor would my teeth gnash against themselves in frustration, for I had long gone past the point where such petty provocation would get a rise from me. Still, my free hand formed an iron fist and I found myself gripping my trusty weapon tighter. I would succeed at this Test, and only come out stronger.

“Yes, I have just the thing! Your final trial and a suitable reward, should you overcome it. I am most generous, am I not?” she voiced with an intonation that demanded worship.

It was a powerful thing, the influence of god, a mesh of soft womanly wiles and the hard steel of irresistible command that threaded through her voice. I felt myself start to give voice to a word of praise and thanks, but stopped myself. My pride would not allow me to do so. In comparison to the power of my patron, the source of dark, otherworldly magic, Entropy, hers was but a pale shadow.

“You do yourself proud. I see that you are made of sterner stuff. This will be the last Test. Come prove to me your worth,” she exclaimed, an echo to her voice that reverberated with heavy portent.

From the last statue, an amorphous blob was born from the living stone. It shrunk in size, condensed and turned into liquid, before taking on the rough texture of mud or earth. Like clay. From this ball grew four limbs and a head. As it slowly took on more detail, I could see that it was molding itself into a vague approximation of a humanoid form. It began to take on more complexity, growing ever more sinister in its appearance.

I yearned to strike this thing down as it was being created, before it could be completed, but something held me back. It would be wrong to strike down an unborn child. It would be perverse. It would be unjust.

These thoughts, however, were not my own, and the choir of voices within clamored in protestation. A suggestion snuck through the alien thoughts to the fore of my mind, an image of the raw stuff of Entropy. Holy Aura would not serve me well here. The next opponent would require something darker, something more powerful.

The auric light faded slowly, and with it my primary source of illumination. The orange red glow of Golem’s body was all that was left, and even that had begun to slowly fade as my Rust spell continued to consume the remains. Divine purpose and the sense of righteousness was replaced with something more familiar. I readied the threads of Mana and cast the spell. Entropic Aura pulsed from me, and I felt a serenity, an acceptance of my place in all existence. Though I was finite and had an end, I was also the end.

Finally, I was able to break from my fugue of inaction and false sense of fairness. Using the Dash skill, I closed the distance between us and raised a blow, fueled with the strength of Power Strike at what I thought was the clay figure. My weapon was parried by the clay creation’s weapon, and the first note of steel meeting steel rang in the air. Even in the questionable light, I could see that its sword was identical to my own.

I took a step back to gaze upon the figure that had been born from the clay or living stone. It looked back at me through a visored helm, fashioned in the same style as my own, with cold disdain. What was once stone and clay, was now a thing clad with heavy steel, shadow, and dark ambition. In time to the waves of my own Entropic Aura, it emitted identical gray waves of its own that brushed and flowed against mine.

It was in a way a compliment, I thought somewhere in the back of my mind. Of all the mighty monsters that Iasis could have chosen for her final Test, she had chosen that I fight a mirror image of myself. A reflection and testament of my own might.

For a second, it looked down at what was left of the golem and drew inspiration from it. The thing had been born, but a few seconds ago, and I could sense that it was already learning. And learning quickly. Wary, I kept my distance, which proved almost to be my undoing. Black lightning flowed from its outstretched hand, intertwining with the pulses of our Entropy as raven dark energy latched onto my armor.

Gritting my teeth, I expected a world of pain, girding myself to launch a last suicidal spiteful attack even as I cooked within my armor. But there was nothing. There was no spike of pain, nor was I turned into a blazing conflagration of metal. Absolutely ineffective, the black lightning wove and coursed futilely about my person. Stupidly, the thing cast Rust on me again, but to no effect, as the energies of the spell simply washed over me.

I laughed in unrestrained glee at the lesser me’s display of foolishness. It had even inherited my habit of making the same mistake twice. I understood now why the voices had prophetically advised me to use my Entropic Aura. The Aura had been the shield that had nullified my mirror’s power. I knew it to be so. Before it could cast another spell, I redoubled my attack, our blades clashing in a song of sparks.

I would enjoy this contest with the most perfect of sparring partners.