13 (II)

Arachnae

As the scene offered by Foreshadowing faded, Shiv did his best not to growl. This was getting stupid. How did a dragon living in the Abyss know more about Shiv’s homeland than he did? Well, Shiv knew why. Taint take you, Roland Arrow…

“Uh, not exactly. I was kind of… thrown.”

“Thrown? From all the way up there?”

Shiv winced. “Yeah. It was a rough landing.”

“And you survived?”

The Deathless smirked. “Yeah. They underestimated my Toughness. Too bad I don’t know how to fly.”

The dragon sniffled once, and then, to Shiv’s surprise, Marikos guffawed with laughter. “You… I like you. I like your spirit—and your attention to detail. You got my title right. You won’t believe how often I have to correct people on the order between Ser and my Pathbearer Tier. It’s very tiring.”

“Yeah. Sounds that way. Listen. I overheard you yelling earlier, and it sounded pretty bad.”

“Oh.” Marikos’s face fell. Shiv didn’t know a dragon could look so ashamed. “I… am sorry you had to witness my indignity. I was… I have committed a grave sin, and I yearn to be punished. But even so, my warrior heart cannot accept a coward’s suicide. Hence, I have come here to challenge the Composer herself to finish me. I am a Pathbearer of Legend, if nothing else, so let my end come at the hands of a god.”

Shiv eyed the web-rimmed portal in the distance. It was a pretty large gateway. Shiv wondered if Marikos might fit. “Right. You found the gateway leading to where she is?”

“Ah, a gate that leads to Weave, yes. Hidden within a deep maze. The Order of Arachnae do so love their little mysteries.” Marikos said that with more than a little scorn.

“Okay. But… why haven’t you just tried pushing your way in?” Shiv was genuinely curious. “You’re really powerful—I had to dive in a snake pit to avoid getting incinerated.”

Marikos’s face turned to one of absolute horror. “No! You were caught in the throes of my tantrum! Is that why you are dressed in burned rags?”

“Kind of.”

“I… I am ashamed. Please. Forgive this unworthy, disgraced knight. It seems that every time my hand slips, I strike someone who does not deserve it…”

“It’s fine—”

“No! It is not! I will not accept anything less than your forgiveness.” The Dragon-Knight was glaring now, and Shiv felt a surge of grave danger. Marikos was beyond temperamental in his mood swings.

“Uh, sure. It’s alright. You didn’t know. You’re forgiven.”

Marikos nodded and smiled sadly. “You have a noble heart. It is more than I deserve right now.’

“So, back to that. Why do you want to die?”

“It is a dark tale. A wretched tale. A tale of dishonor. A tale of woe…” And Marikos started talking. And talking. And talking some more. Marikos, Legendary Pathbearer, Dragon-Knight of the Descenders Union, annihilator of mountains and literal horizons, was a chatty-boy. A chatty-boy with a lot of endurance.

Oh, this was what Valor was trying to warn me about, Shiv lamented as Marikos began talking about how he was trying to court some lady—only for her to spurn him for his rival, Forswell. Shiv couldn’t even remember who Forswell was half an hour into the story.

This went on for almost an hour. Marikos said a lot, and Shiv tuned practically all of it out. During the process, his awe of the Dragon-Knight’s power was matched only by his disapproval of Marikos’s character. Marikos was a chatty-boy who liked to whine. This was entirely unbecoming of someone who was more powerful than Roland Arrow. At least the Town Lord tried to put on a facade of dignity. Pair that with how Marikos loved going on tangents, and Shiv was doing his best not to groan from the torment.

Someone kill me… Again…

Tragically, no one came to answer Shiv’s pleas. Maybe he had to do this himself—use his Biomancy to burst a vessel in his brain…

“…and that was the first time Forswell stole my tabard—but it certainly wasn’t the last.”

Shiv took a chance to interject at this point. He didn’t care if the dragon killed him for this interruption, he just had to do it. “That’s riveting. Damn that Forsal.”

“Forswell.”

“Yeah. Him. Anyway, I hear the pain in your voice, but you shouldn’t be hasty. The Union still needs you.”

A long, miserable sigh sounded from Marikos. It was like a horn going off next to Shiv’s ear. The Dragon-Knight held out his trembling hands… “But there is no returning from what I’ve done. My anger, my unwillingness to listen, my damnable pride. It has plagued me all my life. And now it has led me down a dark path. A ruinous path. I swore an oath when they performed the Rites of the Dragon on me. Me and all the others. For some, it was just a thing of power. But for me… it was life…”

“And it’s probably still life,” Shiv said quickly, wary of another tangent on the horizon. “The—Vicar Sullain. He’s gone up with his forces to the surface to attack Blackedge. The Descenders—”

“WHAT!” Marikos roared in Shiv’s face. His Diamond Shell endured, though it felt like someone smashed him in the head with a hammer. Marikos could probably kill a city of Pathless by yelling loud enough. “THAT… THAT RADICAL FOOL DID WHAT?”

Shiv was grinding along the floor now, the soundwaves from the dragon pushing him back. Thank the System for this skill. My ears should be little more than bloody paste from the noise. It still really felling hurts, though.

“Yes,” Shiv said, rubbing his right ear. “I saw him go up myself.”

Suddenly, Marikos looked about with alarm. “This… I must return. I will come back to ensure my honorable end another day.” Gratitude filled his eyes as he hammered his massive greataxe against his armored chest and saluted Shiv. “You have done me and the Descenders a great deed today…”

“Shiv.”

“Shiv! Shiv the Timely! Shiv! Hero of the Light-Cursed Surface. I must go and inform the Elector-Lords. We cannot afford another war against the surface at this time.” The dragon twisted his neck skyward and drew in a deep breath. “Shiv! I have something to beseech you! A quest to grant!”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Shiv began, but Marikos was more of a talker rather than a listener.

“You must seek out the Composer and tell her of this travesty. The Arachnae Order must emerge from the shadows in which it dwells and join the rest of us in condemnation of this… this absurdity. Was the last war against the surface not pointless enough? Have they forgotten how close Albion was to reaching the Great One’s Tomb? I say nay! I say this will not be! Now, I rise! May we meet again, Shiv! Preferably before my glorious death at the hands of the Composer herself. Away I go! Away!”

Stolen story; please report.

And Marikos shot up into the sky with such an explosive gust of momentum that Shiv finally went bouncing off his feet. Every time he landed, he cracked a bit more of the glass, and found himself thankful for the Diamond Shell he now had. In less than a second, Marikos went from a slow glide to cracking the sound barrier. A final shockwave swept over Shiv, and he found himself staring at the space where the dragon used to be.

Someday, I’m going to be strong enough to fight and beat him. Rising back to his feet, Shiv swatted off fragments of glass from himself and began walking toward the still open portal to Weave. If there was one thing that Marikos did right, it was burning that mountain. Shiv never much liked mazes. He would have hated going through one just to get where he needed to go.

“I’m surprised you managed to withstand all that yelling. My skull is ringing even inside this cage.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty tough.”

“You’re more than pretty tough, Shiv. Your Toughness skill evolved, didn’t it? You land heavier than before, and you barely reacted to Marikos. Someone who doesn’t have at least an Adept-Tier evolution of a Toughness Skill would be badly concussed and bleeding right now.”

Shiv smirked slightly. “Yeah. I, uh, went over the edge in the snake pit. I found out when one tried to bite me.”

“Congratulations,” Valor cheered. “And it came with Foreshadowing?”

“Yeah.”

“You are someone who rises above great tribulation, then. Few gain so many skills so quickly.”

“Few people are fortunate enough to be as tested by this world as I am.”

“Fortunate?”

“Iron isn’t formed in the cold, and a dish isn’t done without the flame. Pain. Suffering. It’s all just a price to me.”

Valor let out a slight hum. “You know, you have a very remarkable indifference toward struggle, torment, and death. It’s a resilience that serves you well.”

Shiv shrugged. “I am my own pillar. Who else was going to be?”

It took a little while before he passed through the melted landscape and arrived before the web-lined gateway. Shiv could feel the tightness in the air pressure. That was spatial magic, alright, and it supposedly led off where he needed to go. Shiv wished he still had the compass. That way, he could check if this was actually the right spot.

“No sense in regretting what’s gone,” Shiv muttered. “I think we’re here. Do I just step through the gateway? Anything else?”

“You best hold me high and declare your intentions on the other side. I suspect the Sisters of the Arachnae might try to disable you otherwise.”

After that long talk with Marikos, Shiv found that he wasn’t so against the idea of a little brawl if the Umbrals started one. “Alright. Let’s see how this goes. Maybe they’ll be able to get me back to the surface so I can help save my town. If it’s still there.”

The ugly thought of Blackedge being destroyed entered his mind properly for the first time. Roland Arrow was mighty, but against the vicar… Shiv didn’t know who would win. He didn’t know enough about either Pathbearer’s capabilities to have a good guess. Blackedge was filled with warriors and fighters, too. It’ll be a hard battle to take the town, if nothing else. He just hoped Georges and the other chefs were safe.

Shiv stepped into the gate and quickly found the webs weren’t for show. It took a bit of a struggle to pull his feet off the sticky threads with each step, and his frustration was quickly building. “It would be nice if they didn’t line their front door with this felling webbing.”

“It’s meant for the sisters to traverse with their enchanted boots. And you are not a sister. Also, they can see you through the web—they likely could see Marikos as well, they just didn’t want to bother with him. They knew he wasn’t actually going to go in, and closing the gate might just end with him flying to another one.”

“He’s that good at tracking these hidden gateways?”

“Marikos, for all his… eccentricities, is an extremely powerful and skilled Pathbearer. More importantly, he is experienced enough to know a great many things. He is a known variable to the Composer. I suspect she will find greater concern with you.”

“Me?” Shiv winced as the spatial tightness grew uncomfortable. The path behind him was vanishing into a crevice. The path ahead was lined with webbing and obscured by shadow. Dammit, my spear… That would have lit this place. Thank you, Marikos. I hope we never meet again.

“Yes. You are an enigma from above—a surfacer who witnessed the rogue vicar of the Necrotechs and survived, who managed to encounter a group of sisters transporting my cage to its destination. So many coincidences colliding together. You would be suspicious of such a person, too.”

Shiv frowned. Valor was right. Everything he experienced so far was a thing of incredible circumstance—but could also be seen as something engineered. With New Albion apparently having spies down here trying to ruin things… Well, Shiv couldn’t blame them for the tense atmosphere. Just then, his Biomancy picked up something within the webbing. He brushed the biology of a weaver for a moment—a stronger version compared to the ferals he faced earlier. Shiv could feel how robust they were—and sensed the one near him had also undergone some biological changes compared to others of its kind.

He paused and looked at the webbing where he knew the weaver was. “You can come out.” He held up his dagger. “I can feel you. I am here to deliver the Cage of Valor Thann in place of Sister Nomos. It was her final request.”

For a few moments, the weaver hiding in the webs said nothing. Then, a soft reply came, gentle and feminine. “So you say. Proceed. We will receive you. Whether as enemy or honored guest will be discovered.”

“Honored guests,” Valor added, joining the conversation. “I remain a person still, even as a prisoner within this cage. And do show Shiv some respect. He has undergone trials that would make many of the sisterhood quail. And he has done it all to honor your fallen—even preserved them with sacred ice.”

“Apologies, He Who Halts Eternity. We will attend to you soon. And to you as well… Shiv.”

And then the weaver was beyond Shiv’s mana field and he was alone with Valor again. “He Who Halts Eternity? Is that your title?”

“One of them. I always thought it was a bit overdramatic. But when you are the foremost slayer of other soul-splitting immortals, I suppose it fits.”

“Your life sounds ridiculous. And awesome. You understand I’m going to ask you about so many things once we find someplace safe to settle and rest, right?”

“Of course. And I look forward to having this conversation in person so I can thank you properly instead of talking to you through this stone cage.”

Shiv was curious about that too. “What do you look like?”

“Depends on the body.”

The Deathless threw his head back and laughed. “Ridiculous. I’m gonna have to outmatch you someday.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Finally, Shiv emerged from the web-wrapped gate and found himself standing somewhere surprisingly familiar. He was inside a teleportation anchor not unlike the one in the Slayers Guild on Blackedge. There was also a group of Umbrals similar to himself in height standing there waiting for him, with a truly massive weaver wearing a brilliant gem-crusted regalia at their back.

His field washed over them, and he realized most of the Umbrals had no Magical Resistance. The weaver he recognized—it was the one he sensed earlier. He nodded at her. He was a bit apprehensive about the spiders after his earlier experience, but still endeavored to be polite. “Good to finally meet you.”

The large weaver crossed their upper four hands and bowed. “Tales Lost to Darkness greets you, Pathbearer-Legend Valor Thann, and…”

“Adept Shiv,” Shiv answered, with more than a little pride. He considered his skills, and noted his Unique Revenant Skill and his Legendary Vitality Drain. Those likely counted for his Pathbearer Tier too, but he didn’t need anyone to know that.

“Pathbearer-Adept Shiv. We welcome you to the Weave, and ask that you submit yourself for inspection.”

“Of course, Honored Weaveress. Your presence is a blessing.” Shiv noted how polite Valor was getting, and was more than willing to have the dagger do the talking. However, he really needed to know something.

“Excuse me, but how are you going to conduct this inspection?”

“We will ask that you surrender all weapons and equipment before allowing our Psychomancer to probe your mind for ill-intent.” The Weaveress gestured toward the Umbral at the front of the group staring at Shiv. He noted the crystalline diadem she wore, and he let out a sigh. The Umbral Psychomancer narrowed her eyes.

Yeah, I don’t much like you either. And you don’t have Magical Resistance. See who gets who first.

“Valor. Tell them that I’ll show them my knives and tattered clothes, but if they touch my mind, things will get very ugly.”

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