The Column loomed over them like a mountain over a narrow ravine. It made her feel small—it always did. But now, there was a certain dread to it. A finality.

All the way here, Emalia had been lost in thought, trying to come to grips with what was said about the Highest Chamber. She could accept that it stored Souls like those of the priests, but to reach out and draw them forth from another realm? The High, as she understood it, where the portion of the Souls that gave intelligence and thought to a living being? Could such a thing truly be done? And if so, was it even a repository like she'd believed, or had those Souls come down to embed themselves in her? A horrifying thought. She shivered and thanked Raizak that something far worse hadn't come to seize control. Maybe that's why a powerful Sorcerer is needed: to resist the invading Souls. But then, Sovina had trained to resist the influences of Sorcery and Souls, so perhaps a guardian would be able to manage. No, it was about one's ability to command the Spirits, she guessed.

She watched Daecinus stride ahead, unmoved by the remaining scattered resistance tossed at them by the desperate and afraid of Nova. When one man in old mail bearing a watchman's mace came too close, Daecinus waved him aside, and the middle-aged guard collapsed, pale as a corpse, thinning before her very eyes like a corpse beset by decay. Daecinus didn't even look back.

Emalia covered her mouth and averted her gaze from the poor man's face. She tried to focus on making a plan. Well, what sort of plan was even a good one to attempt? Fight Daecinus? Why? If he can bring back his lost love, why would we have an interest in stopping that? She stole a look at Sovina, who was beside her.

"Are you okay?" Sovina asked.

"Confused. Uncertain… But yes, I think so."

"Good." She leaned in and whispered, "I've got this feeling in my bones that when we get up there, all isn't going to go how we hoped. Or how he hopes."

"I'm worried you may be right." When the tsar, just behind them, gave her an inquisitive frown, Emalia cleared her throat and addressed him, "Apologies, uh, Tsar Vadoyeski, I am certain all will be fine. We will protect you."

He nodded and scowled ahead. "What is that creature intent on bringing into our plane?"

"Someone from his past, I believe. Someone our Vasian predecessors unjustly took from him."

"Or a monster to further sow our destruction?"

"I don't think he needs any more assistance there."

The tsar directed his scrutinizing scowl her way. "No. Perhaps not."

Emalia grimaced and looked away. "He is rational. He's not bent on Vasia's destruction for its own sake. If he can be provided a reasonable alternative… This may be just that. Or a step toward that. I don't know, but it is worth attempting."

When the tsar didn't reply, Sovina nodded. "You're right. We need to try something."

Soon enough, they were inside the Column itself. Emalia took the lead, directing the party onward using the most efficient route. Without worrying about being caught, they could make far better time. Still, it was not easy. The climb was long, and the halls and stairwells were littered with corpses of those trying to run. Priests, guardians, rebels who were attacking the Column, and even a few Soulborne. Seeing her own priests of the Column dead like that—well, she had to avert her eyes more than once from familiar faces. It was not easy. Even knowing why he did what he did, she felt herself hating Daecinus. Despising him. How could anyone do such a thing? Command such a thing. He had to be a monster. Closed-minded, perhaps, but it was how she felt. Even as she tried to fight it, climbing higher and higher within the belly of the Column, empty and silent, the nasty knot of hate only grew. And with it, trepidation she might come across Smychnik's corpse, though she never did.

…

The Column felt like a tomb. I told myself it was a good thing, and yet I couldn't help but feel a certain dread. As if I'd committed some irreparable evil by exacting justice upon this institution so clearly fraught with greed and corrupt violence. After what Emalia had shown me, this only became clearer. The Column, and all it stood for, needed to die.

But if a proto-Observatory exists, can I come to destroy it? I thought, climbing higher after Emalia. No. I think not. And as long as the building remains, there will be those who flock to fill it. I sighed, feeling the impossible weight of inevitability staring me down. How could one hope to make meaningful change when so much stood in the way? When practicalities and human nature hung on the other end of the scale? If Nova burned, would another empire rise in its place? Far more power-hungry and domineering? Pethya was unique in its moderation, for it was ruled by us capable few, trained and chosen, with longer lifespans than the average citizen, allowing us to wisen and cultivate our experience. But we, by means of Sorcery now lost, were a variant species on the verge of extinction. In Merkenia, perhaps not.

Merkenia. It called to me. My sister, my people… I would see them eventually.

But now, I knew what awaited me. I could see it, now. The gambit. The risks. On the walk here, the climb up, I thought long and hard. And if I was correct, then I understood why Maecia left me in that sarcophagus to rot, afraid of what I would do.

We stood in a cramped landing before a single door at the top of the long, winding stairwell we'd climbed. Emalia turned to me, sweat atop her brow, expression tight. "It's here. There's only one route to it." Her voice was weak. I assumed it was fear in her remembrance of before.

I looked to my Soulborne. Their movements were slow, drained. Is mere proximity to this chamber enough? Is it like Drazivaska? I turned and opened the door. Inside, utter and complete darkness not even the torch one of my Soulborne held could pierce. I frowned, peering in. There was something odd in the air. It wasn't like Drazivaska, where an onslaught of power hammered at my mind, trying to pull it apart, away. No, this was different. It wasn't even like my memories of the Observatory, with its Sorcerous influx like the rush of a surging rapid through my blood.

For the first time since waking, I hesitated in the face of this new Sorcery. It was old, potent, and dangerously ill-understood. I glanced to Emalia. "You simply entered this chamber?"

She nodded, staring past me, eyes unmoving.

"What did you feel?"

"I…" She bit her lip and shook her head, not meeting my eyes. "I don't know. I just remember the vision."

I turned back to the expansive darkness. I was afraid, yes, but I had to enter. I had to. Too much of myself needed it. Too much of myself simply couldn't resist the possibility of bringing her back. I had to try. Hesitating would only bring about ruin.

"Guard the tsar," I told my Soulborne. "Let none leave until I have emerged. If I die… Kill him, let the others go. Follow my previous commands after." I glanced to Sovina, who stood there ready and waiting. "Do you have a knife?"

She raised an eyebrow at me. "I do."

"May I have it?"

"You've killed everyone in the Column. Nearly everyone we've ever known. And you want a weapon from me?"

I sighed. Of course, she was right, and yet I needed it. "Please. I would ask you to trust me, even if I have no right to such a favor."

She scoffed, but handed over a dagger anyway. I took it and slipped it into my belt. "Thank you. For what it is worth, I am sorry. And please, do not follow me. Whatever happens."

Without waiting to see the reception of my insufficient apology, I took a deep breath, fortified my mind against intrusion by taking in Sorcerous power until my eyes burned red, and stepped in.

Immediately, nearly every expression of my Sorcery disappeared. It was as if I were rendered mundane in all ways except my ability to feel and connect with Sorcery—all external expression was impossible. Blocked. No, not blocked, but vanished. To test this, I stepped out, and it all returned in a cold rush. I stepped back in, and the extinguishing occurred again. Odd. Worrying, if I mistrusted Sovina and Emalia. But I didn't, and they didn't seem to notice the shift.

I took a second step in. There was darkness in every direction.

I turned back. The doorway was there. The others peering in, watching me. They seemed so far away. "Nod if you can hear me."

Emalia did and also replied, "I can." Her voice sounded similarly far off.

I reached out with my mind, testing the chamber, searching for this connection to the High the tsar spoke of. It was like scraping the ceiling with my fingertips, blocked as usual from whatever lay beyond, confined to the limitations of the mortal plane. I pressed further in.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

The ground was stone. Flat. My footsteps echoed across the room.

Before me was a rising structure of what appeared to be ivory, veined with some crystal. Multi-leveled, looming. It came to a top after a few massive steps like a ziggurat. Like a flattened version of the Column itself. I hauled myself up the first level and paused, but nothing happened. It was after the second that I felt something change. The limitation—the ceiling—was higher, nearly beyond my reach. I'm getting closer. This truly is a replica of my Observatory. A working one, at least, I added with some distaste. If I had just a little longer… If they hadn't attacked us! If they hadn't ruined everything. Stolen everything! Then my creation, my Pethya…

I took a deep breath, calming myself. I had to stay focused. I had to stay centered.

One more level.

I pulled myself up, crawling over the large steps nearly as tall as I. Rough stone bit into my hands as I pushed myself to my feet. Was it not ivory, as I saw before? No matter. Focus, now. I stood at the peak, presiding over the chamber, alone in darkness.

With another steadying breath, I reached out, up. My Sorcerous grasp stretched well beyond its normal limitations, rising higher, extending further. I felt drawn out, thinned, and yet I pressed on, going beyond anything I'd ever been able to attempt. It took nearly the extent of my amplified power, but I felt something change. Like the tips of one's fingertips numbing in the cold of winter. The beginning of frostbite. I swayed with dizziness and vertigo, even with closed eyes. Entities brushed against my Sorcerous exploration, grazing my awareness with flashes of memories and emotions. But I was still an outsider, an interloper. I needed to input power to assert any sort of control. And so I did. At first a trickle, then, when nothing changed, a flow increasing in rate until I was outputting enough Sorcery to rend a mass of people's Souls. I had limited time. With the power in hand, I thrust my memories into this dark void of the High and called forth my beloved. Come to me! Hear me, please! I fed it power, pushing past my normal safe threshold, risking Corruption. Awareness split, I felt my body seizing in pain, teeth grinding with animalistic ferocity, blood cold as ice and skin flushed hot and eyes burning red and—

A touch. A familiar touch. Could it be? Demetria?

Is it you?

Everything exploded in light and agony. My connection severed, my power snapped and whiplashed, nearly disintegrating me into bones and ash, and then everything went black.

I opened my eyes. I was no longer in the same room. Rather, I was kneeling beside the broken portal in Drazivaska. And I was not alone.

Someone stood in the center. And they were watching me.

Their form was strange, undefined, with characteristics bleeding into one another. In fact, it appeared as if any defining features were lost, their figure beyond precise explanation. It was then I understood, and the dread grew monstrously. This is worse, I thought, centering myself. Much worse.

"You were waiting for this," I said, shoving unsteadily to my feet.

This being… this creature raised its chin, staring down at me imperiously, even if I stood taller. "We are close to a return here, where this tale began."

"You believe yourself safe from me?" I took a step closer, voice turning to a snarl. "Release me from this, or else I will destroy you, priests!"

"You cannot." I froze in place, unable to move. As if my muscles had all simultaneously contracted. This being continued, "We can hold you here indefinitely. We can pry your Sorcery loose from you. We can do much more. But you are still useful to us. As such, we believe a deal should be made. You wish for Demetria's return? We will allow it so long as you return us as well."

Of course it comes to this. It was always going to. How long had I been manipulated to come back here? Since I thought these Spirits dead in Drazivaska? Did I even have a chance of killing them? Could I here and now? I had to test the limits of this confinement first before overcommitting. I tried to summon what Sorcery I could and pry at the seams of this vision, but nothing came to hand. I tried again. Nothing.

"You have no Sorcerous power here," it said. "There will be no fighting us. You see, in the time you harbored us, we had to remain hidden. We had to work undetected. You are more aware than Priestess Emalia was, after all."

I glared at the creature before me. The monster brought to life. If I could wrap my hands around its neck and throttle it dead, I would. Still, I remained frozen. But anger would be of no use if not harnessed in a productive manner. "Will I be able to bring so many entities back?"

"We will return as one. And yes, you can manage both her and us."

"I see." I took a steadying breath, jaw clenched. "Then I will bring her back first, if you are lying. And if I betray you, you will still be able to control me while I am in the chamber."

"That is acceptable."

"Release me."

"Do not try to betray us," it said. "We know you bear a blade. We will return with sufficient Sorcerous capabilities to rival you. This need not end in tragedy."

Liar. My scowl only deepened. "Of course."

It was not horrid pain and fear that accompanied my return, but a quiet awakening. I was still at the top of the stepped pyramid, standing as I had been. The room was dark and empty. I took a deep breath and reached forth, pressing past the confines of my plane and into the one beyond. The one above. I sifted through the Spirits, I pushed memories into the void with all the energy I could muster, searching, grasping for the familiar, and then my mind felt the familiar take hold, warmth radiating, cold searing. I took grasp and pulled.

Possible only with my amplification Artifacts, I made the temporal physical. From nothing but the High Soul, I wove a web of the organic, sculpting that which I'd lost but never truly forgotten. Demetria, my lost love, appeared before me in an instant, unconscious, bearing her true form. Not just of my memories, but of what once was.

Similar to Maecia and I, she was tall with pale features and an innate capacity for Sorcery; however, instead of our red eyes and skin the color of grey stone, her eyes were violet and a lusterless platinum, respectively, though asleep as she was, I could not see the sophisticated beauty of her gaze. Her dark grey hair fell over her shoulders, covering her breasts like a painting made real. I realized she was naked and quickly pulled off my gambeson to pull the tunic over her head, then put back on my armor. My eyes drifted back to her face, relishing those features I feared I might never see again. It had been so long. Decades in my waking life. Centuries in those stolen. Her nose was bold, lips framed by laugh lines, forehead unstressed by exasperation at my oddities or concerns for the future. She looked peaceful. I bent down and kissed her forehead. My tears rolled down, splattering on her skin. I brushed them away, then wiped my eyes.

I had to get her out of here. I had to leave this place.

Something ached in the back of my mind.

"I know," I muttered, collecting myself, feeling the cold iron at my belt. "I will."

Once more, after another stolen look at my beloved, I stood and prepared to reach forth into the realm above. This time, it did not take nearly so much power nor so much searching—which was good, exhausted as I was. I fell to my knees, gasping in shaky breaths, dazed from it all. Emotionally, I felt myself scattered, desperate for security with Demetria, fearful of threats—no, terrified of them—both real and imagined. Ever since hearing the words from the tsar's lips, I operated half in awareness. Ever since Drazivaska, I've felt lost and partially functional. Now, it was all slipping away. How much longer can I hold out? Something else was coming. Something else unavoidable. I just didn't know when.

I looked over to the being I summoned. It was human, certainly, and could have passed for any normal, middle-aged man, except for the stark femininity softening his strange, unplaceably Vasian face. As if he were a perfect blend of all the Souls that made him up. He, however, unlike Demetria, was awake. He was coming to as if waking from a drunken stupor, slowed and uncoordinated.

It was nearly here. I quickly undid the ties on the gambeson, slid it off one shoulder, then took off my belt and tied it tight around my upper arm. I wrenched it tighter again. I braced with a deep breath, pushing all distractions from my mind, focusing only on the necessary end. On what I would have to do. The gambit. The victory.

Any moment now.

My body burst into a bloom of agony, and despite any possible preparation, it was still too much. I collapsed to my back, howling. I focused the Corruption seeping into me and forced it to my left arm in heavy concentration. It poured into me, thickening my veins with black death, cracking my flesh, destroying my Sorcerous capabilities. I stared in scarcely contained horror at the web of black Corruption consuming my bared left hand, wrist, and forearm. It was far denser than before, which only made the pain and consequences more severe when it would eventually spread.

Frozen in pain, I could do nothing as the priest stumbled over and pulled the diadem from my forehead and the rings from my arms, claiming them.

"We could never allow Vasia to suffer at your hands," he said, fitting the Artifacts on. "You simply had to be swayed to come here to the Column, and we would win. Now, stuck here, where your power is isolated, your Soulborne, so dependent upon you, will be defeated by the warriors of Vasia with ease." The monstrosity did not laugh or smirk in pride but merely frowned down at me like I was a dog beneath his respect. A creature to be put down. "You will watch as we bring Vasia back from its death."

I tried to draw Sovina's dagger, but the pain was too much, and my good arm trembled and fell to my side, useless. It was worse than before. How long until my body shut down? Until my organs rotted away inside of me? Until I couldn't move even an inch, and I died, hopelessly vulnerable? I can't die here! I can't abandon Demetria here. Fight on, Daecinus, Magistros of Sorcery, deliverer of your people's justice. Fight on!

"And now you begin to understand the consequences of your hubris," he said, turning from me to Demetria. "But we are afraid we must go further. Vasia is under constant threat as long as any Pethyans remain. But unlike you, we do this not out of petty anger but necessity for the future of our people. We understand she was betrayed by our predecessors unjustly. Yet, we cannot take undue risks. As such, we will ensure it is painless. You, however, must suffer the consequences of Corruption." He grabbed Demetria and began to haul her toward the chamber exit.

"No!" I summoned all my strength, all my energy, and grasped for my blade. The Priest hauled her down the first step, taking his time. With each step, they drew further away, and my flailings grew only more feeble. "Release her!" I screamed. "She was a peacemaker. She bears no threat!" My calls went unanswered. "If you harm her, I will finish what I've started! I will see your world ruined!"

I cried as the Priest pulled her away toward the glow of the hall where his powers could be used. Where he could kill my love with Sorcery. And she would be taken from this world, from me, once again.

I forced my hand to rise, to grip the blade and wrench it free from my belt. I heaved in a wheezing breath, spittle flying, eyes pried wide in desperation. The pain was crushing, consuming. My vision was dim. I saw only the crawling Corruption, working up my forearm, the inside of my elbow, the iron blade. I spat out a breath, plunged the dagger into my flesh, and seethed through bared teeth. I wrenched it back and thrust it in again, deeper. Again. Hacking at sinew, cartilage, ligaments, tendons, bone. Blood spat out despite the tourniquet. I kept going. I nearly blacked out from the pain, but I held on. The joint was still intact. I wouldn't be able to cut it, for I was weak.

"Emalia! Sovina!" I howled, voice cracking in a near mindless, animalistic scream. "Do not let him pass! Kill him now!" I gripped my savaged, Corrupted arm and pressed it against the ground, put my right knee atop it, and pulled.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.