Aldrend, The Serpent Isles - 17th day of the Sardonyx Moon, Year 24 AH
The interior of the manor was even grander than its exterior suggested. Curling ornate trim ran along deep blue walls decorated with oil paintings, dried flowers, and old antique weapons hung up for display. High Mage Reginald seemed to be the sort that believed that any amount of empty space present in his home was unacceptable. As such, countless pieces of mahogany furniture lined the hall including tall tables, drawers, dressers, and hutches. These served the secondary purpose of displaying more of the man’s possessions. Regis’s eyes scanned them, but while he certainly had a number of rare items, none of the ones present in the entryway seemed to be magic components. Those, the demon assumed, the man kept elsewhere—safely tucked away.
Behind him, Reginald closed the door and locked it with a click, obscuring the two guards outside from view. “I’ll call Anne to make us some food,” he said as he scurried forward. “Lazy girl, never around when I need her,” he muttered.
A simple circle of runes had been engraved across the surface of the nearest table, one frequently used for communication purposes. Reginald rummaged around in his robes, pulling out a crystal the size of his palm that would be necessary to activate the spell. Those crystals had been fairly expensive twenty years ago, as they were difficult to mine and further made scarce by the fact that they couldn’t be reused. That was why these spells were typically only used in the most dire of circumstances. Either the crystals were more common now or Reginald had so much wealth that he didn’t need to worry about wasting them on frivolity.
As the mage moved to set the crystal down, Regis stepped forward and gently placed a hand on the man’s arm to stop him. They wanted as few people around as possible.
“Please, there’s no need for that,” he said. “My guard and I ate before coming here.”
“Oh nonsense! What kind of host would I be if I didn’t give my guests food?”
“It’s truly not necessary.” Regis nodded at the manor surrounding them. “However, if you would be so obliged, I would love a tour of your home. It’s truly a work of art. Are those knives Rhovgarian?” He nodded at a few of the blades hanging on the wall. He could tell from the carvings on their handles that they were from Ithren, but his supposed false assumption was enough to completely draw the human’s attention. Reginald turned around, eyes glittering with excitement.
“Ithren, actually! The blades are hand-carved from basilisk teeth,” he boasted. The crystal was left abandoned on the table.
Regis nodded and subtly stepped further into the hallway to lead the man away from the door. Reginald followed after him instinctively, and the demon smiled.
“Really? What a marvelous find. How did you come to possess them?”
“—sent that demon running back to Abaddon with his tail between his legs!” Reginald gestured wildly with his hands, accentuating his story. “That tooth was the only thing that monster left behind!”
Regis nodded encouragingly. For the past hour, they’d made their way through the manor while Reginald gave enthusiastic explanations for each of his possessions and how he’d come to own them. The tales themselves were rather amusing, albeit clearly embellished, but they hadn’t yet reached the items the demon was truly interested in.
The tour had, at least, given him a good sense of the manor’s layout as well as the number of protections in place. He’d noted the alarm runes encircling each window, but they seemed design to keep intruders out. Now that they were inside, they shouldn’t pose an issue.
As for guards, they’d only come across two other guards in the manor in addition to the ones outside. Compared to the prison, there was much less in the way of defense, though this wasn’t too unexpected for a private residence. Markus’s home had been even more poorly guarded, and while Reginald greatly exaggerated his power, most would not risk breaking into the home of a High Mage, especially not one who had served in the war.
Behind Reginald, Hal gave an exaggerated silent yawn, the mage none the wiser as he continued rambling. Regis raised an eyebrow at the angel, who simply shot him a grin before returning to a stone-faced expression more befitting that of a bodyguard. The demon smiled internally at Hal’s antics before returning his attention to Reginald, who had stepped forward to the final set of doors lying at the end of the corridor.
“—and this,” the mage said, “is my greatest collection yet!”
He gestured to the massive double doors. Regis quickly assessed them, noting that they seemed to have been constructed of solid stone. Lines of runes and engravings ran along the door’s borders, and there was no visible door handle—only a single magic circle etched at chest level.
Reginald stepped forward and placed his palm against the circle, muttering a quick chant. The circle began to glow, and a few gusts of wind blew around them. The glowing light from the circle began to spread to the other engravings, lighting them up in a brilliant green hue, before eventually the light reached every corner of the stone. Slowly, the doors began to swing open with a low rumble, and Reginald lowered his hand triumphantly. A warding spell, Regis noted, not too unlike the one that had circled Hal’s prison. These runes had likely been created to recognize Reginald’s handprint and nothing else.
The doors finally came to a stop, revealing a massive chamber on the other side. As opposed to the rest of the manor, the walls of the room were made of solid bricks, and every inch of them was covered in shelves filled with various items meticulously ordered and labelled. The room itself was circular in shape, with a tall ceiling and a glass window above that allowed light to shine directly down on the empty floor in the middle of the space. There, Regis could see a few chalk lines where old magic circles and runes had not been fully erased. This was what he’d been looking for.
Reginald turned around to face them, arms spread wide as he beamed from ear to ear.
“This is my ritual room. You won’t find a better one anywhere on the Serpent Isles!” he declared. “Why, I’d wager it outdoes plenty of Archmages’!”
“Yes, I imagine so,” Regis murmured, sure to add a slightly breathless tone to his voice. He turned his head as though gazing at the space with awe. “How long did it take for you to collect all these components?”
“Two decades,” the human said proudly. “I started just after the war. You know what they say, war changes you.” He released a wistful sigh. “So many spells failed because we didn’t have the right components. Well, I tell you, I made sure that would never happen to me again!”
The demon nodded sympathetically. “I do hope I’m not being too forward, but may I take a closer look? I’ve only heard of some of those items in myths and legends.”
For the first time since they’d entered the manor, a bit of hesitation crossed the mage’s face. He fidgeted.
“Well, I’d love to show you,” the man said, “but I don’t let anyone into my ritual room. Standard mage practice, really. You know how it is. After the things I’ve seen, one can never be too cautious!”
Regis frowned. “I see. That’s a shame, but I understand completely.”
Behind Reginald, Hal raised an eyebrow, jerking his head in the mage’s direction in silent question. Regis subtly shook his head. Though they could attack now, if they missed their first blow, Reginald could easily step into his ritual room, where his magic would be at its strongest. A wide open hallway like this was also not the ideal place to attack; there were too many ways to escape, too many opportunities to call guards. They would wait until later, when the time was right.
Hal shrugged and accepted the answer. Reginald, meanwhile, cleared his throat and stepped forward. The moment he moved far enough away from the room, Regis noted, the stone doors automatically slammed shut behind him with an echoing thump, completely hiding the room and the components away from view. Reginald clapped his hands together.
“Now, how about we get that interview started?”
Regis nodded. “Yes, I would greatly appreciate that. My apologies; I didn’t intend on taking up so much of your time.”
“Oh nonsense,” the mage said with a dismissive wave. “You’re my only meeting for the day, so there’s nothing to worry about.” He turned and began making his way back down the hall. “Would the parlor do?”
They’d passed by the room during the tour earlier. It was located in the center of the mansion, with plush, ornate gold chairs placed beside a large window that overlooked the ocean. Most importantly, it had a single door that led into the room and was otherwise an enclosed space. The demon smiled.
“That would be perfect.”
Steady rays of sunlight streamed in through the large window, warming the entire parlor. Regis found himself admiring the view outside. From here, he could see the sheer drop of the White Cliffs themselves, the ocean waves constantly crashing into the hard stone and forming the white foam that had given the cliffs their name. The waters here truly were a different color, he thought to himself. Perhaps it was a result of the different ocean species that occupied this area.
“—and then I realized we were being followed!” Reginald paused for dramatic flare. “Well, first thing I did was go tell my captain. It took some convincing, but I got him to see reason and we sprinted out of there! The next morning, we found out the whole place had been burned to the ground!”
Regis smiled politely.
“That’s very impressive,” he praised. After they’d settled down in the parlor, the High Mage had been all too happy to launch into a thorough retelling of his time during the war. It was actually rather interesting to hear the story from his side, though unfortunately Reginald had joined the otherworlder’s side rather late and was not especially close to him, so he didn’t have much to share that the demon did not already know. Still, he found he didn’t mind listening to his tales, though he could tell Hal was far less patient with them. The angel stood a few feet away from the couches and appeared close to nodding off.
Regis tapped his pen idly along the plain paper he’d taken out for his supposed interview notes. He could feel the weight of the potion he’d mixed earlier in his pouch just beside his sheathed dagger. Since they’d begun the interview, the two guards inside the manor had passed by the parlor a total of three times. Assuming their patrol intervals were constant, they should appear again soon.
Sure enough, a minute later, the two guards trudged past the doorway, their footsteps slightly metallic from the armor they wore. Neither guard gave the room a second glance as they passed.
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Regis waited until the sound of both guards’ footsteps had faded, estimating how long it would take for them to reach the furthest part of the manor before they turned around. Once enough time had passed, he spoke.
“This has truly been a fascinating conversation,” Regis said, interrupting the High Mage mid-sentence. In the corner of his eye, Hal straightened while the demon continued.
“Though I’d love to speak with you some more, I’m afraid I must be going soon.” He sighed. “We have quite a ways to travel after this.”
“Oh.” Reginald looked visibly disappointed. “I haven’t even started my stories about the final battle!”
“It’s truly regretful,” Regis said. “Perhaps we can schedule another interview?”
The human immediately brightened. “Oh yes, that would be wonderful!”
Regis rose from his seat, and the High Mage followed suit. The demon set his notepad and pen down and raised his hand for the man to shake. “Thank you again for your time, High Mage Reginald,” he said with a warm smile. The man in question grabbed his hand with a wide grin.
“Of course, of course! Anytime!”
He moved to release his hand. Just before he could, Regis suddenly tightened his grip on the man’s wrist, locking him in place. The human winced.
“What—” His voice was cut off by the sound of Hal shutting the parlor door behind them.
In one smooth motion, Regis unsheathed his dagger with his free hand. Reginald’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, either to yell for the guards, to chant a spell, or both, but the demon had already been prepared for that. He immediately activated [Silence], and any noise that would’ve left Reginald’s mouth was rendered mute.
Regis took a step forward, yanked the mage towards him, and dug his dagger into the man’s throat.
Deep crimson leaked out from the cut, spilling onto the plush carpet below. One of Reginald’s hands flailed and fumbled in his robes, perhaps searching for a crystal or spell component, but by then it was too late. His eyes rolled back, and Regis released him just as the man fell and collapsed silently onto the floor in a heap.
[You have gained experience!]
[You have leveled up! 17 —> 18]
[The [Silence] ability has leveled up! 1 —> 2]
[You have gained the [Demonic Whispers] ability]
[Strength +3, Agility +3, Constitution +1, Mana +4, Will +4]
Regis raised an eyebrow. Based on how much experience had been required for his previous level, he hadn’t thought he would reach level 18 so quickly. Reginald had supposedly had access to the System; he wondered if that had resulted in the higher amount of experience gained. He would have to keep an eye on that in the future.
Regis willed the [Silence] field away and heard the sound of footsteps approaching as Hal stepped close. The angel peered down at the High Mage’s still body and snorted.
“That was an awful lot of talk for something so quick,” he said. “You probably could’ve done that earlier.”
“Perhaps, but a bit of added caution does not hurt.” Regis paused long enough to listen to the sounds of the manor. He couldn’t hear footsteps yet, but the guard patrol should have turned around by now and would arrive at the parlor soon. He nodded at the angel.
“Could you please take care of the guards? There should only be the two inside and the two outside.”
Hal raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but what’re you gonna do?”
“I’d like to begin setting up the trace spell,” Regis explained. “It may take some time to draw the sigils.”
The angel shrugged. “Yeah okay. You know more about ritual stuff than me anyway.” He turned and reached for the parlor door handle.
“Oh, and Hal? Please do try to be discrete.”
Hal just grinned as he swung open the door. “Always am,” he said cheerily.
Regis shook his head fondly as the angel promptly stepped into the hallway and disappeared from view. Now alone in the parlor, he took the opportunity to rummage through Reginald’s robe pockets. He found two more crystals similar to the one he’d nearly used for the call and deposited them in his bag. Next, he crouched down, took his dagger, and sawed off the man’s hand. It didn’t require much effort, which he attributed to his current strength stat.
As he did so, he took the opportunity to read through the description of his newest ability.
Name: Demonic Whispers
Level: 1
Mana Cost: Medium
Cooldown: Medium
Description: Allows user to project an auditory hallucination on a single target. This hallucination is heard only by the target and takes the form of whispers. The range and duration of this ability is dependent on its level.
It was a fairly interesting ability, Regis thought, and one that would certainly prove useful when utilized correctly. He would need to test it later with Hal to determine how far its current range was.
The demon straightened, the severed hand now in his grip. It was still warm to the touch. Regis wiped his dagger off on the couch cushion, then resheathed it and slipped out of the parlor.
The ritual room wasn’t far. After a few turns, he soon found himself face to face with those looming stone doors again. He took a moment to inspect the engravings, then stepped forward and placed Reginald’s severed hand over the magic circle. He repeated the chant the man had used, and after a moment’s pause, the circle began to glow and the engravings lit up.
Regis stepped back, allowing the doors to come to a stop. The room appeared exactly as it had before, and now, the demon freely stepped inside. The air here was cooler, he noted, the majority of the space cloaked in shadow save for the center lit by the window overhead. Regis’s eyes scanned the labels on the shelves, pleased to find the collection was every bit as vast as Reginald had claimed. This was an area the High Mage had not exaggerated in. The demon gathered a few grounding crystals necessary to begin the trace spell, then picked up a piece of chalk scattered on the ground and promptly began to draw.
Trace spells came in a wide variety of types and had several applications. He hadn’t used them particularly often in the past, instead relying on his innate ability to detect magic auras, but he knew the runes that were involved. First he placed four crystals in each cardinal direction, using them to guide the size of the circle. Then, he began filling it with runes starting from the border and working his way towards the center. It was a slow, methodical process. He paused several times to check his work before continuing. One mistake here would cause the entire spell to fail.
Regis finished the rune circle just as Hal poked his head into the ritual room. The angel looked significantly more awake than before and had a few new bloodstains on his wings, but seemed to have heeded Regis’s warning for discretion. Hal’s eyes scanned the magic circle, eyeing the layers and layers of complex runes spiralling inward towards the center of the room. He raised an eyebrow.
“Awful lot of runes there.”
“I’m afraid it’s necessary for a spell of this scale.” Regis rose back to his feet and dusted the chalk off his hands. “This specific trace spell will analyze the magic forming the System and identify what species is responsible. From there, we can further narrow down the range of the spell until we’ve found a single magic signature that matches.”
“Huh, makes sense.” Hal eyed the shelves, whistling as he read through the labels. “Damn, how’d that guy get some of this stuff? Shattered reaper mask?”
“He was indeed quite the collector.” Regis nodded at the label in question. “Could you please hand me one of those pieces?” Reapers would be a good place to start, given what Frey had told them.
The angel walked over to the shelf and pulled out one of the smooth white shards in the container, then tossed it at Regis who caught it in his hand. He carefully set it down in the center of the circle.
“What next?” Hal asked.
In response, Regis stepped back until he was standing at the border of the runes, then summoned his status screen. Keeping the screen open, he placed his hand down at the edge of the circle and began chanting.
Violet light spread outwards from his palm, running down the lines of chalk and filling the space with an eerie glow. Gusts of cold wind rose around them, rattling a few of the shelves as the light coalesced around the broken mask piece. The glow shot towards the center of the circle, and the demon tensed.
All at once, the wind died down and the violet light disappeared like a snuffed out flame. The mask sat untouched in the center of the circle. Regis shook his head.
“It seems a reaper is not directly responsible,” he murmured. Hal sighed.
“Figures that’d be too easy.” He eyed the rows and rows of shelves filling the walls of the room. “Well, we’d better get a move on or we’ll be here all day. What next?”
The sky had darkened. A few scattered stars were visible through the window overhead. Hal had lit a few torches around the space as they continued testing every species in Elaren for a match, but they’d been wholly unsuccessful so far.
In front of them, the violet light faded yet again. Another failure. Regis frowned, mentally running through his memory to see if there were any obscure species he’d missed. Hal made a frustrated sound.
“That’s everything,” he said. “Kelpies, wyverns, chimera, banshees, lamias… We even tested gnolls for fuck’s sake.”
“Perhaps we missed something.”
Hal gave the demon an unimpressed look. “With your memory? Doubt it.” He huffed. “Are we sure this System’s even from Elaren? This shit makes no sense.”
“It does seem to be using a mechanism formerly found on Elaren,” Regis reasoned.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean its creator or whatever is from here. They’d just need to know about the reaper thing and be strong enough to hijack it.”
It was a rather unsatisfying thought, but one that did need to be seriously considered. Perhaps Regis should’ve expected this; if it was so easy to find the System’s origins, one of the Archmages would likely have found the answer by now. No species on Elaren, from the major to the most obscure, had resulted in a match thus far. Either there was something wrong with the spell, or Hal was correct and the System’s origins were entirely alien in nature.
A thought suddenly rose in the demon’s mind. Slowly, he rose to his feet and removed the selkie seal skin they’d been testing.
“Hal,” he began. “The wound on your wings has not healed, correct?”
The angel frowned. “Uh, no. Why?”
“Do you suppose the otherworlder’s magic is still present inside the wound?”
Hal turned to him sharply. “You don’t think…?”
“He’s not from this dimension. It’s entirely possible that the trace spell wouldn’t recognize him as the same species as Elaren humans,” Regis said lowly.
The angel cursed and rubbed his forehead. “Shit. Okay, well, let’s test it.” He reached back, fumbling with the bandages wrapped around his wings until he’d managed to undo them. They fell to the ground in a messy heap.
Without the bandages in place, the deep wound buried in the center of the wings was left completely visible. It looked no more healed than before, even while some of the other minor cuts had disappeared by now. Regis remembered that wound, left from the final blow the otherworlder had dealt to the angel on the Field of the Fallen. The same strike he’d thought had killed Hal. The otherworlder’s sword had been cloaked in his signature magic, and he strongly suspected it was this lingering magic that had kept the wound from healing for so long.
“Please lie down in the center of the circle,” Regis instructed. Hal did so, aligning the wound with the middle of the runes before lying back, white wings sprawled out on the cold stone floor.
“I can’t tell if I want this to work or not,” the angel muttered. Regis smiled wryly.
“I would say the same.”
The demon took position at the edge of the circle again and summoned his status screen. Carefully, he pressed his hand down on the chalk lines and began to chant, his voice slow, steady, and clear.
A by-now familiar breeze swirled around them. The torch flames flickered as the lines glowed violet, their light beaming up towards the sky. Regis continued to chant as the light strengthened and the winds picked up, the violet slowly making its way towards the center where Hal lay perfectly still. Regis spoke the last words of the chant, and the light shot towards the center of the runes.
A blast of wind knocked over several bottles, stray components falling off the shelves and scattering all across the floor. Regis instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes as the light swelled to a blinding white, but he kept his other hand firmly on the runes.
Finally, the wind died back down and the light faded away. Regis slowly lowered his hand and saw Hal still in the center of the circle, expression tense but otherwise unharmed. The violet light had disappeared, leaving only the chalk lines behind. Nothing.
The demon released the breath he’d been holding and closed his status screen. Hal similarly slumped back, the tension in his shoulders dissipating now that the spell was done.
“Well, it was worth a shot,” he said. He moved to sit up, but just as he did so, the runes flashed. Hal froze in place.
One by one, the lines of the circle lit up with a pure white light, steady and strong in the shadows of the room. Regis stared at those glowing runes for a moment before he met Hal’s uneasy gaze. That light could only mean one thing.
The trace spell had recognized the otherworlder’s magic.
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