Orphan At The Edge Of The World - 258 The Magician 16

The woman still half grappled by Duran said, “That was nice, if a tad stuffy but we do not have time for more than that today. Release me so that I may dress.”

The one nearest Orison said, “The price of our aid was the forgetting of what we have done to aid you. It seems that our company in revelry was of some aid to you as well. More is the pity you cannot remember that… We must anon, kindly gentlemen.”

The young mage said, “Asking for a name may be rude but is there a name we might know you or your works by?”

The eldest smiled mysteriously as she wrapped the other two in power. Within moments, they had seeped into the floorboards.

Duran activated his suit and climbed out from the covers. “Zesta river, the previous chosen and the current chosen mortal of her heritage. Over the years, Zesta River awoke a spirit and channeled the faith of those that worshiped her into a mortal. When she reaches a certain point, she’ll retreat into the elemental plane of water and leave the previous priestess as the new Zesta River.”

Orison contemplated and then added, “Shamanism has shifted to more structured religious practices. There’s only the residual faith people give to the river their livelihood comes from and maybe a few old school adherents. That mortal girl will likely be the last priestess who has any real chance of elemental ascendance but she’ll probably end up being the last spirit of the Zesta River.”

Duran nodded. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. She loves… people more than power.”

“What can you tell me of what happened?” the young mage asked.

The soldierly young man wore a self satisfied smile and said, “The things I could tell you a lot about aren’t the kind of details you’d be interested in but our raft poling friend is alright. I’m thinking the higher ups of the church threw everything they could, including the kitchen sink, at you.”

The young mage sighed. “Despite how it looked when I got up, I don’t think I actually ended up having much ‘fun’. Same for you?”

A few shadowed pieces of dialog about how the gold sand dredging ‘tickled’ and a bright flash of light accompanied by pain made the young mage mutter, “I was struck by lightning and unintentionally flirted with a river spirit trying to nab gold sand… fantastic.”

They rushed downstairs to keep from missing the ten minute deadline for free breakfast. The mood downstairs was solemn. Some of that was from next day regrets for people who were a part of the ‘revelries’ that Orison couldn’t remember but some was from a different matter entirely.

At first light, a set of temple guards and clergy attempted to do much the same that had happened upriver, having not heard the news. The were working off of a previous understanding only to realize that Red Dock wasn’t going to stand for it at all. Two clergy members only lived long enough to hear ‘False prophets burn in the hottest hell.’ for the first time before being stoned to death by an army of peasants after the two holy men denied that war and taxes were solely the province of nobility.

A third clergy member had wisely read the environment faster than his peers and was willing to ‘pray over it’ before insisting on proceeding. He survived, along with his two temple guards who were briefed on ‘the old gospel made new’ before being released to ‘sin no more’. Without a mage and a fighting machine doing damage control, a handful of residents died and so did the temple guards who caused it.

The difference in flavor was mostly due to it being marshaled by a landed knight who had vested interest in certain taxes clergy had been siphoning from Red Dock. Their rafting friend had turned upriver to go back home after dropping them off but the message he carried kept flowing downriver all night. It was likely that the message had spread to near the southern border. Each town had a post that was open to important news all night as a part of military defensive measures.

A string of towns that had wealthy lesser nobles and large standing militias seeing a way to get some of ‘their’ money back was a wildfire disaster for the church. The knights and barons hadn’t been too keen on the church dipping into military matters or growing a personal force either. Successful rebellions against spiritual authority and some local spiritual leaders not exactly against stepping away from military action was a recipe for quick reform or a civil war. Either way, Orison didn’t plan on getting involved again.

Done with morning eats, the two climbers booked passage with the river boat captain recommended by the rafter. The man wasn’t overly happy to have them. The rafter had a damaged ride due to being involved with them but the captain was assured that it was a one time event and they would be away from church controlled area soon enough anyway.

Duran commented after they had some space on the deck to themselves, “How sure ARE you that it was a one time event?”

Orison said, “I don’t have memories but I do retain knowledge and understanding. I acquired a spiritual debt that was used to place the mark. I’m pretty sure the church tried to do something to me through it but it was my own attempts to remove it that allowed me to be open to that direct reprisal.

“That colossal di- sunny guy is trying to put me in a catch-22. To remove it as it was intended, I’d have to do his work. But if I do, he can strengthen it as a blessing for my service. I feel like somebody tried to warn me about messing around with faith. Oh, well. What’s a journey without a few annoyances?”

Duran said, ” Good company or not, I’m concerned about not remembering what those river ladies did. Their ‘aid’ shouldn’t have been necessary. I can see your over robe is still intact even though you were hit with… something.”

Orison shrugged. “For once, I don’t feel like overthinking it.”

A few hours later, the boat was getting close to its next stop when the young mage felt magic pings on the soul mark. “Clergy are trying to get a bead on me. I have a really nasty feeling about this. It didn’t dawn on me because I didn’t think a tier five would be this dumb but I think he wants to get me killed and snag a spiritually strong subordinate for cheap.”

The soldierly young man said, “If we fight, it’s going to get ugly for bystanders this time. A boat-to-land struggle isn’t an easy gap to cross quickly.”

“Then it looks like it’s time for a swim,” They said.

With a shout to the captain to not attempt rescue, the two suited up at the cost of some cheap commoner clothes and dove in. With the strength of the river current, a water sprite wasn’t a whole lot of help. But with the bit of augmentation the suits provided and what essence the duo had stored up, they made it to the other side with a low burning fatigue.

“Is Find Objective picking up anything?” Duran asked.

Orison said, “Two strong essence objects but neither have spacial flavor. One feels like a banked and warded leyline node a few miles west and the other’s too far away southwest to get more than a feel of old ritual magic.”

Duran said, “Southwest then. I want to feel like I’m headed towards something, not running away to avoid collateral damage.”

Laughing a little maliciously, the young mage said, “We’ll head to it slowly.”

Half a day later, they were heading into the edges of another wooded area with no sign of nearby civilization. “I don’t get it. I’ve been pinged a total of fifteen times. We’ve been practically strolling. Hell, I stopped to investigate some of the materials for that gruit beer the woodsman made. Are they trying to find me or annoy me to death?”

“Does that help with the debt? If they kept doing it, could it cancel the debt and let you remove the mark?” Duran asked.

Orison shook Their head. “It’s only being used as a scry target. If they actually tried to reach me through it-”

An arrow shot from an incredibly long distance nearly took the young mage’s life instantly. They could feel the tip scratching at the surface of Their beating heart. It seemed that they’d reached a level of material ‘realism’ that the suit was no longer the bullet catcher that it once was but still boasted decent protection.

With practiced ease, Duran provided nearly 180 degree cover while Orison pulled out the arrow and slapped a heal. The soldierly young man did some slapping of his own, eight arrows worth. It most certainly wasn’t coming from behind them and was quite surprising for a number of reasons.

Duran shouted. “As a courtesy, I’ll give you one chance to explain before I kill all four of you.”

He was answered with another three arrows. As soon as Orison had some decent cover, he was off like an arrow himself. The young mage was fuzzy on details but once Duran had marked someone to defend, anyone who attacked his defense mark got a vengeance mark and the soldierly young man could sense it for miles. It was never a good idea to dig into the underpinning of a friend’s concepts but They were fairly sure some karmic law of some kind was involved.

Twenty minutes later, the young mage was running the last of comfortable reserves on some light healing for Duran as they relaxed in a wood cottage stocked with far too many supplies. A small amount of investigation revealed a missive from the kingdom to the east.

“Trying to rile up a squabble with southern neighbors by posing as southern kingdom soldiers… posing as bandits. Not a half bad ploy for early medieval tactics,” Orison said.

Seeing no reason not to, they decided to spend the night in the conveniently offered cottage before resuming their trek the next day. That night the two both experienced nightmares, a rare occurrence for those who didn’t sleep normally. What was revealed wasn’t good news.

After sharing what they saw to each other, Duran said, “My Medea and your Grandma Georgia are in agreement. We are zero sum. This world is part of our original planned reality but it is isolated. There’s no way off of it available in it. We’d have to wait until one of us could planar travel. That’s… going to take a long time.”

The young mage frowned. “And in that time, whatever interfered to place us here has been hatching additional zero sum scenarios. Considering our awakening was delayed by over a decade to begin with, we’re pretty screwed already.”

Duran looked so frustrated, tears were forming at the corners of his eyes. “How hard do we have to try before we can prevail!?”

Orison remained in thoughtful silence.

The soldierly young man’s expression hardened into steely determination. “We have a rip cord, a last chance for when we reach a dead end. They aren’t supposed to be used unless we die with no hope of resurrection. I don’t like my option much and I’ll have to take a world out to do it but…

“Listen, there’s some things I didn’t allow myself to forget, just in case. There’s something called the point of spiritual origin, the place and time where your soul core first formed. I can’t say much about it beyond that but you can find yours. If you choose to do it and there’s a person or entity there with a scary aura, keep going to any time before your spiritual origin point and reenter reality.

“That will erase you but ceasing to exist is better than what they have planned for us. I don’t know much about that either. But what I DO know is that entity is our enemy and if it catches you there, you’ll become another one of its minions. If it ends up being at my own, that’s what I plan to do.”

With a bitter smile, Orison said, “So, it’s split and run. Since we aren’t strong enough to fight it and we can’t outrun it, we go different directions and hope we can get far enough apart that it can only catch one of us.”

With a cold face, the soldierly young man said, “And the survivor avenges the one that doesn’t, yes… It’s grim logic but I’d rather one of us had the ability to live on and make them pay. If not for that, I would have stuck with you to the very end. I’m not afraid to die and…”

Orison sighed, “I know… Reese loved you too. She pretty much tried to emotionally blackmail me behind your back but it’s hard to be mad when I understand.”

Eyes softening some, Duran said, “I know it’s a strange thing to wonder about right before we try to figure out how to die or kill each other in a way we can ‘live’ with. But, do you think cultivators have it easier? I know it all balances out pretty even, as a whole, but do you think their love issues are easier?”

Orison chuckled. “I don’t know about EASIER but it’s definitely more simple and straight forward. A soul craves experience as a whole where a single living body craves much more specifically. They have their exceptions, I’m sure. But a ‘one species, one gender, one path’ ideology, it sounds fairly appealing sometimes. It’s only ‘grass is always greener on the other side’ BS, though.”

Unstrapping his sword, Duran asked, “How do you think we should do this?”

The young mage smiled. “We don’t need to. The river ladies opened up a channel to siphon off our life force. They only intended to nibble off a bit for the sake of their mortal member but I say we open the floodgate and let her have it all. She’s got her elders to catch what she can’t handle.”

“What about your mark from that god?” the soldierly young man asked.

Orison smiled wickedly. “She’s got her elders to CATCH what she CAN’T handle.”

Hours later, they laid shoulder to shoulder on the cottage bed as church officials closed in on them, talking about the adventures they would have had if things had turned out differently. Unnaturally gathering storm clouds unleashed furious lightning strikes on the cottage to reveal two piles of dust quickly patting down and mixing on the soaked and musty mattress.

***

They didn’t know who they were but They knew Their mission, find where it all began. Like following a strange river that branched out widely and returned to a single source, They traversed the complicated and enigmatic life that was Theirs. Along the way, bits and pieces of useful information began piling up. To make room, They shunted away anything that wouldn’t enrich Them.

Some events defined Them or were necessary as reference for why this or that understanding or piece of knowledge worked. Those it kept, though it didn’t particularly want those pieces. To make absolute efficient usage, They pushed and packed those unfortunately necessary emotionally charged bits into the deepest recesses of memory keeping consciousness.

As They neared the beginning, They spread Their senses out warily. In Their current state, They were like an instinct sensitive animal. And even though it looked safe to enter, They knew it was a trap. A strange bit of essence wafting around the ‘other place’ They were in would be easily missed but They had sensed it all the more.

Like a wild animal that would rather chew its own leg off and bleed to death than be captured by a trap, They suicidally pushed past the essence charged rock and single spiritually awakening wildflower that had given birth to Their soul. For a moment, a dark and hypnotic voice reached out playfully to suggest that being another of its avatars wouldn’t be such a bad thing. It claimed that existing as an extension of itself was better than being nothing at all.

They were tempted to agree but from the unwanted emotional part of Themselves welled an intense hatred that wouldn’t allow it. With a mental sigh, They let go of the possibility of existing and continued past the point of origin along the branches of Their life. That should have been it but it wasn’t.

Unmoored, they drifted along an invisible line. Unseen by any spiritual sense, there was only a sense of desolate gravity to it. More than once They had strayed off the invisible line to flounder frantically in the unknown to find it again. After a very long ‘distance’ of time-space, that ceased to be an issue.

Somehow, They had stumbled upon a ‘self’ that had existed before the ‘self’ They knew. As They traveled down this new ‘old’ line, They slowly felt Themselves begin to unravel under a great strain. They were no longer passively being pulled but had to struggle to get closer.

One piece of Their ‘old’ self was collected. Then there were two pieces. A third larger piece was the limit that They could endure or risk falling to nothingness anyway. A coreless soul kept unraveling by boundless regret and hatred wrapped itself around Them and pushed them higher, allowing Them to claim a fourth piece even greater than the last three combined.

“My name was Piran. Like you, I destroyed myself rather than become that thing’s finger puppet. We were one once and now it has come full circle. Take what you can of me that is useful and discard the rest as I would have done to you with time.

“Whatever these pieces are that you have found, I hope you can use them to make that thing suffer. Steal, pillage and salt the fields of its life. It may well be beyond our reach but it’s interests aren’t. I beg you to ruin it if destruction isn’t possible. Frustrate it so dearly that it has no choice but to look for more fertile fields in some other corner of the endless outside.”