Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

Regenerate was a V Valence spell, so again, it required a Nine with Divine or Primal Magic to pull it off, and nobody used Primal Magic here.

The ability to use the power of Heaven to restore lost limbs, even those lost years ago, did for the Alliance what banishing the altered forms of the Hea and restoring their own did for the tribes.

It was a trickle, which would have become a flood if we were capable of handling more souls than we were. On the other hand, it was a lot of Karma being able to return the Hea to their natural forms, it could all go straight into Priest Levels if that was so desired, and progress was swift as a result.

The Overlord’s scouts had come to Osteth to see with their own eyes what had become of Dryreach, the shrines and mementos to the fallen there laid by the grieving hands of the survivors.

Slain at the hands of their own masters.

Stacked armor and weapons of virindi design soon joined many of those mounds, as some of the strongest warriors of the Hea abandoned the cause and way of their masters to return to their kin. When they also saw with their own eyes their people returned to their ancestral forms, and the spirits of their ancestors blessing their returns, the hardened and even cruel warriors often broke right down as memories of their childhood returned, the love and care of their elders as they grew, and the times before the unceasing and uncaring demands of the virindi.

The distant Overlord was not happy with the desertion of so many of his warriors, but there was little he could do. The returning scouts informed him of the white fires that brought true death, and would even consume the virindi in their entirety, along with the shades and undead alike.

The returned Isparians had completely cleared the maddened shades of Tou-Tou, and had cowed the warlike Gotrok entirely with their display of unity and returned magic. Muldaveus seethed in Linvak Tukal, waiting for the Isparians to attempt an invasion and deliver to them a deadly blow they simply were not falling for, while his lands and holdings were chipped away around him by the day, drawing tight the snare he had stuffed himself into.

Even the lugians working the mines in the Direlands were slowly being recalled, which meant the flow of metals and worked goods was slowing down. Many of the lugians in the Direlands were Tukora, the most formidable of their kind, and would certainly buttress the Gotrok against any invasion attempt.

But the Isparian adventurers had long-proven to be masters of the skirmish campaign and raiding tactics, and were proving skilled at using the hilly terrain against them. Their haunting reputation from before the Fall began to slowly rise again.

They were also Sealing the Summons points, removing the threat of endless armies and continuing reinforcements entirely from the conflict. The whole southern area of Osteth was basically worked free of Summons now, a cooperative effort among all the races there, freeing up the landscape from the random threats that had characterized it since any knew of it.

The Overlord could not send his army off to round up the deserting Hea and force them back without rousing the entire Alliance and whatever powers they now commanded… and his command would be fought the entire way by his underlings, as fighting their kin was much different from fighting the alien Isparians and even the lugians.

Arantah could only sit there and wait, silently questioning the will of his masters. He suddenly found that the future, instead of a potential empire awaiting him, now was starting to look remarkably bleak and lonely, his proud throne a hollow and mocking seat that meant nothing, and the powers his masters had given him just shackles upon his soul he could not throw off...

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I went along because she was my Null and I was her bondmage. Expanding Lived-Lines through the teleporting murk of the island was important, and this was our first trip up into the area of the olthoi north.

We went up the east side of Lake Blessed, mainly because we had a lot of people going over the landscape eliminating all the Summons points, and because we had no choice but to leave a force here to prevent any olthoi from filtering down this way… which, I was told by the Hea, they did on a regular basis, always testing, always seeking more land.

The main settlement in the area had once been Eastham, right on the ocean, but not really a port or bay of any kind. Its claim to fame had been the nearby gateway to Asheron’s Island, where the great Empyrean Mage had his residence, isolated from the rest of Dereth and safe from any olthoi bugging him.

That also meant the abandoned town was largely abandoned, because not even the wild tribes wanted to settle into the place when they could look right to the east over the sea, and see the multi-colored, elemental flames still burning on Asheron’s Castle there after fifteen years.

We did run into quite a few banderling clans, all of them sniffing around the area now that the Hea had pulled so far back, eager to move into cleared areas and claim them for their own.

Princess Kristie’s usual method of beating the stuffing out of their chiefs and great warriors went a long ways towards earning respect for Isparians once again. Her words that setting up a territory for them was totally possible, that no Hea or Isparian would contest, if they took responsibility for that territory as well, were also paid attention to.

Namely, they had to kill any olthoi who came that way, a task they weren’t opposed to undertaking at all, although the bugs were very dangerous for the lesser tribes. They’d have to bring in some of their more skilled and powerful brethren to do what they intended, which was absolutely fine.

Kristie was absolutely willing to beat the crap out of them, too.

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“Anything special?” Kristie asked me, as we sat up against the ruined windmill that had once been a key landmark for the town of Eastham.

“All four primary Isparian energies released, a massive Elemental rupture of some kind, and it is being continuously fueled. But… that’s not Asheron’s energy signature,” I stated absolutely.

Kris was chewing absently on a long stalk of grass, staring out over the water at the sight that dominated the eastern sky, clearly visible even in the dusk. Her pale violet eyes narrowed, considering that. “Well, it’s his Wards and ley line taps that are on fire? Why would it be his energy signature?”

“The signature would be what was burning, as the Wards fight to reestablish and repair themselves. All the Empyrean stuff is regenerative, and that would include anything he made for himself. I can see the energy signature’s effect on the grounds and the Shoreward, although the Shoreward is much older. He definitely tweaked it to do something, possibly allow himself free passage as he desired.

“That magic we are seeing is not his. Someone else’s magic is on fire there.”

Kris weighed that in her thoughts. “So… any hint of virindi-esque energies?” she asked shortly.

Because the reason we were coming up here was to see to the fates of Candeth Martine and Gaerlan, and the latter loved to work with Elemental powers.

“Not at this distance, but if they were used to disrupt something going on there, any traces of them would be long since vanished.”

“Uh-huh. Suspicious?” she asked me, spitting the grass out.

“Gaerlan’s hate for Asheron was his predominant personality trait, and his hatred for every other sapient race was second. If he was set free, the first thing he’d do would be to investigate and see how Asheron fared, and he’d take great delight in seizing control of whatever Asheron left behind.

“Candeth Martine proved great at cracking open things that shouldn’t normally be opened, wielding energies Isparians weren’t meant to… and he would have a massive grudge against Gaerlan.

“Fucking up whatever he intended to do would be what he would do. It’s just that assaulting an Empyrean mage in a fortified position would likely be too much even for him in a more… enlightened state after his return.”

“But we won’t know until we get in there,” she pointed out.

“Exactly.”

“The stuff on the shore is wimpy as far as Summons go. What do you think about the sea?”

I was silent as I contemplated those waters, waves sparkling under the stars and moonlight.

“I think the servants of the Deep are not fools, and both did not reveal themselves, nor did they ignore that the single most powerful land-dweller on this island, his magic reverberating through the ley lines, lived out there. I think there’s some monstrous shit in the sea here,” I judged at last.

“Mmm.” Kristie’s eyes sparkled. “No Wagon with us this time.”

“Roughing it with Shelter spells and Sustaining, that’s us.”

“Think Asheron knew they were out there?”

“Almost certainly…” my voice trailed off as we both leaned forward at the same moment.

A shadow had risen out of the water, and then fallen back, far off in the distance, beyond any normal vision, over a mile from this shore. Without our Masks down to study the burning island, we wouldn’t have noticed anything.

“That dorsal fin was twelve feet high,” Kris noted professionally. “If that came from a shark…”

“Hundred footer? Megalodon?” I had to ask, running through Aelryinth’s memories of some of the creatures of the magical seas he’d seen, not that any of them looked like the natives of Auberean. “Or a leviathan. Either way, that was big, even though it was curved back…”

“So, the odds Asheron knew about the shit around his island and maybe brought something in to disperse their attention?” Kristie extemporized carefully.

“It would certainly do the job, wouldn’t it? Especially if the nautiloids are one of their prey animals… or the remorans, at the least…”

Kristie hmmphed. “The banderlings had no tales of massive beasts popping up in the seas in this area, so nothing has been breaching or drawing attention. If there’s been feeding, it’s been out there, in deeper waters.”

“And maybe as you said, they chased all the Deep’s creatures away.”

“Think they might come after us?”

“If they were called to act as guardians of one sort or another? Yes.”

“They?” she repeated.

“Let’s assume it is a natural animal. That means it has to feed. Since it will chase away the creatures around here, that means it has to go out and range for food. It can’t guard while it is doing that, so that means at least two of them.”

“We should tell them there’s a bunch of potential prey further south.”

“Thinking they don’t know is probably a mistake on our part. But you know how unnatural the temperature changes of the water are here, and, I imagine, the waters down there are probably shallow enough to feel very uncomfortable. If the Deep’s creatures are down there, it’s because they don’t feel threatened.”

“True enough. I was going to let the island lie, but I think it’s within our remit to investigate the place.”

“Mmm. That fire is going to disrupt a lot of things, but I probably won’t be able to spellcast without drawing a lot of attention, so you’re definitely on lead. The odds there aren’t going to be a lot of Elementals around the place is slim to none.”

“How fortunate someone has a Prismatic Elemental Stone and is partially prepared for such stuff.”

“I could Abjure the crap out of the things and you know it, but that would be even louder.”

“Fear not, delicate flower of a magos! Your stout and doughty Bonded Null will take care of you!” she promised with solemn cheese.

“I expect we’re going to have to run fast.”

“Eh, me too.”