Chapter 2 – A Perplexing Encounter

There are two places in the world that a Reborn can be open about who and what they are. Lorelei is one of those two places. I had been to Lorelei many times, and had always felt comfortable there. People didn’t fear or judge us. We were their allies.

But the world has changed. The gods declaration of war on Xarinos affected Lorelei, a country we’d had a treaty with for over a hundred years. The country I encounter when I cross the border is much changed. There are fewer people, and they withdraw from me once they realize what I am. In the Temple Of Sylinar, one of my regular stops whenever I crossed the border, they are aloof rather than welcoming, even though I know a few of the priests there. For the first time, I realize that our alliance is in danger.

Of course. Once the gods had declared war, assigned a high king, wouldn’t those that leveled be at risk of angering their gods? Would they defy their gods and honor the treaty between our nations if it meant never leveling again? Would they join the human’s fight against us? Again I am reminded of just how important my mission is.

                                                                                                               Excerpt from the Journal of the Emissary

Third Day of Striving 1142

That the trail looked the same as the last dozen they had followed didn’t that bother Borin. Borin had a hobby that kept him constantly busy. Borin liked to think. When there was no conversation to observe or participate in, or the monotony of days searching for something led his companions to doubt its very existence, Borin’s mind remained active. When he wasn’t watching the Misfits of Karmenon, he was watching the weather patterns. When he wasn’t watching the sky, he was watching the terrain, the insects around them, the type of rock in the wall they walked besides as they wound their way through foothills towards the mountain range known to most as the Horn.

He could tell that the group was beginning to get frustrated. Garne became more surly, Ressssen more introspective and Merck Vanderoth grumbled under his breath more frequently. Only Maynor maintained a positive mental attitude. The way he spoke remained the same. He kept conversations going when they started, even if he didn’t start many himself. Borin began to suspect that Maynor was deliberately working to keep spirits up. But after a couple of weeks of searching, several of them were ready to give up hope. Borin was not one of them.

Mathematically, it could take months, even years to find a dungeon in a general area, even if you had an idea of where to look at. For one thing many dungeon entrances were hidden. Beyond that, the amount of area that had to be covered was daunting, and you had to move slowly because you didn’t want to miss a clue.

It wasn’t all bad news. They did manage to find a town to buy supplies, so they wouldn’t be starving anytime soon, and there were some slow running streams where they could refill their water skins as well. Their situation wasn’t dire, just tedious—at least for most of them, but not for Borin.

Borin had read everything he could find on dungeons. Their existence fascinated him. It was one of his favorite subjects to study. As such, the idea that he could find himself inside of one thrilled him. That was what kept him going, day after day, night after night.

Fortune, said a voice in his head.

He looked up. There was no one around, at least no one he hadn’t already been traveling with. This was the second time he had heard the word, but he couldn’t make sense of it. It sounded like Sylinar’s voice, but she didn’t answer when he prayed about it. When he received no answer, he decided it was time to ask his companions.

“What does fortune mean?” he asked.

“You don’t know?” asked Maynor.

“I know the definition of the word. I just heard a voice in my head say it and wondered if it might not have another meaning.”

“Hmmm,” said Maynor.

“It isn’t the first time I heard it.”

“It’s not?” asked Ressssen. “When did you hear it before?”

“About an hour ago.”

“You didn’t think this was worth mentioning,” asked Garne.

“I was trying to figure out what it meant. Until I heard it again, it didn’t seem that important.”

“I wonder,” said Maynor. “Are you familiar with the game called Fortune?”

Ressssen and Dreek both shook their heads, but Garne’s eyes lit up.

“Do you think that’s what it means?”

“I don’t know, but it seems a possibility.”

“What is this game?” asked Ressssen.

“Human children play it. They hide an item, and their friends have to look for it. Fortune is when you get closer. Misfortune is when you get further way.”

“You think someone is trying to guide us to the dungeon?” asked Ressssen.

“Considering the help we’ve gotten already, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.

Garne frowned. “If someone knows where it is, and they can contact us, why not just draw us a map. It would save a lot of walking around.”

Maynor nodded. “Do you have any idea who contacted you?”

“It sounded like it was Sylinar’s voice, but it’s hard to tell from one word.”

“Well, that would explain why she wouldn’t tell us straight out. I know this sounds odd, but gods have rules. They’re not allowed to interfere with each other, so this might be all she can do.”

“I read about that,” said Borin. “There’s a pact between gods. If the god of death sees someone is dying and says it’s their time, then the others can’t use a miracle to save them.”

“Wait a second,” said Garne. “If that’s true, why are healers allowed to save people. That happens sometimes.”

Borin nodded. “That’s true. Some people can be saved because it’s not their time.”

Dreek entered the conversation. “Are you saying that there’s a date and time for each person’s death that’s known beforehand? It sounds like it would be a handy thing to know.”

“I don’t know that everyone has a death date, but some people certainly do,” replied Maynor. “I don’t think I’d want to know mine.”

“So, if we’re going in the right direction, I might hear that again?”

“It’s possible,” said Maynor. “All of this is just a guess. But let us know the next time you hear it as soon as it happens. Maybe we can figure this out.”

Everyone returned to their silence afterwards, but it was different. Expectant rather than hopeless. As if maybe the gods hadn’t abandoned them after all.

And they were correct. The gods hadn’t abandoned them. Sheba looked on from inside Maynor, well aware that Iorana, Sylinar and Mitra were there as well. Sylinar exploited her connection to Ressssen and Mitra rode along with Dreek, and Sylinar watched the scene through Borin’s eyes. Sheba had been surprised when she had heard Ressssen say that serpent lords had different gods, but she was still young. Most serpent lords realized that the gods were the same and only the names were different.

Sheba had been following the doings of the Misfits of Karmenon for a long time, ever since Striker had joined them in fact. She had tethered Garne when he was sixteen and, like all her worshipers, kept tabs on him. She had already been aware that Striker was reborn, because she had been with her when she had died. That she was back could only mean one thing.

She couldn’t say anything, as Se Karn wouldn’t allow it, but she could watch carefully and did. She could follow the events that had happened in real time. She was there when Telisian had tethered Dahr. When Merck Vanderoth had become a priest. When Striker had leveled six levels in one night, which coincidentally was the night Stalker had joined the Misfits.

She heard the prophecy, traveled with the Misfits to Rish and been there at the meeting after Eric’s wedding. A well laid plan, certainly. Who’s plan, she had no idea.

She had been part of that plan. She had brought Dahr into Eric’s dream at Iorana’s insistence. Iorana was running an investigation on the magic drain and thus, she had to take the lead in these matters. What bothered Sheba was how little of what she knew she shared.

It was only recently Sheba had learned of Sylinar’s connection to the Undead King, at least on a soul level. Their magical signatures had a common component shared by every reborn, including the Undead King. And she had no idea what that meant. And then Sylinar had decreed that the Undead King needed to be treated as if he were a god. They would all listen, because Sylinar was still the most powerful of them, but it chafed. And it was time to get to the bottom of it.

Mother, why are we treating Nylus as one of us?

She spoke to the mother directly, leaving others present out of the conversation.

We can neither enter nor see into the Plains of Xarinos. Nylus has powers we neither understand nor replicate. He may not be a god, but I am not willing to take the risk.

He has not agreed to the pact. Thus we would be at a disadvantage when dealing with him, since he doesn’t need to follow the same rules.

Sheba, had it not occurred to you that one of us might be behind what’s going on in Plains of Xarinos.

Sheba didn’t reply right away. She stopped and thought about it. Could it be that one of her siblings or even Sylinar herself be behind what was happening? She didn’t see how it was possible. After all, the Plains had been like that for as long as she could remember.

But Sylinar had been here before her and shared the mark of the Undead King. If Sylinar were behind it, then it would have existed before Sheba had been created…which meant it was entirely possible that Sylinar knows what is going on.

The thought did not comfort her.

*

During the course of the day, at least once an hour, Borin heard Sylinar’s voice, directing him toward the dungeon, or at least that’s what they thought. Sometimes they would find out they were going in the wrong direction and they’d have to correct. It was a painstaking process. Borin periodically tried to ask for guidance on the matter and was met with silence. Not that Sylinar regularly spoke with him, but it had happened upon occasion.

He could tell the others were frustrated with the situation, but it didn’t bother him. For Borin, it was just another thing to think about.

Eventually, they ended up on a trail that took them higher and higher into the mountain passes. An hour passed, then another, without Sylinar’s commentary. Borin took this to mean they were on the right path. And then, when he thought he wouldn’t hear from her again, she spoke.

Now might be a good time for a meal. Prepare yourselves.

“We should take a break, according to Sylinar.”

“Not the best place strategically,” said Maynor.

Ressssen dismounted. “Nonetheless, it would not be wise to ignore the mother’s advice.”

Garne grunted as he dismounted. “It’s true. My mother warned me against become an adventurer.”

“What would you have done if you hadn’t?” asked Borin.

“Probably worked in the mines, like my father.”

“You were god-touched?” asked Ressssen.

“Yep. Sheba must have been having an off day.”

Maynor turned to study him. “The goddess knows what she’s doing. If you were chosen, you are worthy. And if you keep leveling, you continue be be worthy. When was the last time you leveled?”

Garne was about to answer, when he froze. Maynor took a step forward, concerned, then broke into a grin. A moment later, the level flare suffused him.

“I guess Sheba wanted to make a point,” said Maynor.

No one else spoke, each thinking back to the last time they’ve leveled, and how amazing it felt. Garne had fallen to his knees, head thrown back in an ecstasy that could only be experienced, never described.

Before anyone could break the silence, Borin began to glow. He was less demonstrative than Garne, but serenity suffused him, and he closed his eyes to bask in it.

“Two at once? Unusual,” said Maynor, which was precisely when Dreek’s leveling began. Maynor looked at the three glowing Misfits and turned expectantly to Ressssen. Sure enough, her progression followed the others. Maynor had never heard of an entire team leveling at one time. For one thing, multiple gods would have to be involved. Sheba, Iorana, and Sylinar at least. Clearly this had been coordinated between the gods. As he thought about the improbability of it, he could feel the process begin within him.

Congratulations, Maynor. You are now Level 23. New skill unlocked, I Stand Alone. When you are separated from your team, you receive holy boons to compensate for their absence.

I’m not part of any team.

Of course you are. Your team isn’t defined by a record in the Adventurer’s Guild. It is defined by those who have your back, and who’s back you have. Your team is bigger than you know. Recently it has gotten even bigger.

Am I part of the Misfits of Karmenon then?

No. You are part of the high king’s team, as are the Misfits. Thus, you need never fight alone again.

I’m not sure I understand.

You will, when the time is right.

He felt the goddess depart and finally allowed himself to revel in the exhilaration of leveling. Whatever conclusions he needed to draw from what had just happened would have to wait until later, when he could think clearly again.

*

Dahr sat on a grassy hill, overlooking Gabriella’s cottage. That someone so powerful should live in such a modest house seemed incongruous to him. In places he’d lived thus far in his life, the most powerful people lived in the biggest dwellings. But here in the Brotherhood, most houses were roughly the same size.

Dahr had lived in a small inn and then a palace. The food was better at the palace, but his room had been better at the inn. At the palace, he’d lived in servant’s quarters, which made sense, because he had been a servant for most of his time there. But he wasn’t a servant anymore, he was a prince. And he had thought that being a prince was the highest he could ever expect to get in life.

He wasn’t complaining, of course. Going from the son of an innkeeper in a country that had never recovered from its only war to the son of a king was a remarkable advancement. And yet, given his level and his developing powers, he realized that he might go even higher. After all, there were hundreds of princes in the world, but no one could lay claim to the powers he possessed, and he was only beginning to understand them now. What would it be like when he was Tier 2. What if he lived long enough to reach Tier 3? The possibilities would be endless.

That was assuming he survived, which might or might not happen. And the best way to guarantee his continued existence was to continue to grow in power. George had told him as much, but he didn’t understand at the time. He was beginning to. A war was brewing with the Undead King, and he might well end up in the middle of it. He forced all the thoughts from his mind and began breathing slowly and deeply as if preparing himself for meditation. Then he called up the threads and cast Thread Reader.

They appeared immediately, a rainbow tapestry that spread out in every direction. Once, it hurt to look at it all, but now it was comfortable. He dismissed threads automatically at this point, leaving only the ones he was interested in following. He checked on Eric, Chari and Kalutu first. Then Queen Treya. Then King Terrence. Finally, he checked on Striker. She was much closer. Too close, if he was to be honest. He had wanted to be Tier 2 before she arrived, just like she was. He didn’t want to meet her again with that power discrepancy, even if he was sure that he was more powerful than she was. Their last encounter had proved that—hadn’t it. But he remembered her power and decided that he didn’t want to test the theory. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He switched from her thread to Eric’s and followed it all the way to the Plains of Xarinos. Should be contact Eric? No. He had nothing to say. Not yet. Instead, he looked at the threads flowing out of Eric, and found one he didn’t recognize. He followed it and it led to Suzanna. She was lying in bed, just waking up. He couldn’t see her, but he could see through her eyes. The room was dimly lit because the curtains had been drawn.

Hello.

Suzanna was awake immediately. She sat up in bed and the cover fell away from her.

Hello?

I’m Dahr, Eric’s brother. I just thought I should introduce myself.

It was maddening not being able to see her face, but he felt her relax.

Nice to meet you. My name is Suzanna. I’m from another world.

Very cool. I’m from Thysandrika, but I guess you already knew that. How’s Eric doing?

He’s fine. He misses his body.

I’ll bet. I can’t imagine what that would be like.

He could feel her brow furrow as if in thought.

Dahr, may I ask why you decided to contact me?

Dahr smiled, though she couldn’t see it.

I was just curious, that’s all. You’re obviously important to Eric, so I wanted to understand why. Also, I had a question.

Oh?

How is it that you’re tethered to Sylinar?

Eric told you about that?

No. I can feel it.

Oh. Somehow, I didn’t expect you to be so powerful.

Dahr grinned. It surprises a lot of people. You still haven’t answered my question.

Do you know what a video game is?

No. Wait. Give me a second.

Dahr focused on Susanna and found he could access her mind. Just surface thoughts, but she had just mentioned video games. In her mind, she had made a connection to different thoughts. That connection was represented by a tiny gray threads, almost invisible. He only saw it because he was looking and had zoomed in.

He followed them now, and started going through all the games she had played in her life.

Wow, video games are cool.

Yes, they are. Ummm, how did you find out about them so quickly?

When you mentioned them, you thought of them, and it came through the connection.

You can read my mind?

Dahr could feel the concern behind the question.

Only surface thoughts. Things that you’re thinking about at the time.

I see.

This makes you uncomfortable. I should go.

No, wait. Eric has told me you’ll be bringing his body.

That’s the plan.

Any idea how long that will take?

No. I’m not in charge of the schedule. We’ll get there as soon as we can.

Ah okay.

I do have to go now, though. Nice meeting you.

You as well.

As soon as he severed the connection, he felt the leveling process begin. He closed his eyes, so he didn’t see the flare, but he certainly felt it. But the transition from Tier 1 to Tier 2 was stronger than what he’d experienced so far. He could feel his body and particularly his mind change in ways that he couldn’t understand much less explain.

You have reached Tier 2. New skill unlocked, Nudge. The fun is about to begin. Enjoy.

Dahr loved the feeling but suddenly felt that time was of the essence. He forced himself to focus on the moment, particularly as he was filled with George’s power. He found and contacted Striker in mere seconds.

Hello, Striker.

Dahr?

Mhmm. You can quicken your pace. I’m ready for you now.

Has something changed?

Dahr chuckled. You could say that.

He could feel the concern in Striker’s mind, and it made him smile. After all, she had good reason to be concerned.

*

Queen Rhea sat alone in her rooms in the palace at Rish. This wasn’t the suite she had shared with Leonid before he’d set out for Melar. This was more akin to a servant’s quarters. Her position entitled her to a more spacious room, but she had asked for something more modest.

Though her official title was ambassador to the high king, she found herself at a lull in her responsibilities. It seemed like the entire reason for traveling was to bring her mother back to Rish so Lord Ormund could be healed. After that initial journey, the chirkir had stopped talking to her. The same chirkir that had been talking to her mother all those years, even though she hadn’t been aware of the fact.

Now Rhea seemed to be an afterthought. No one paid her much attention, beyond a customary courtesy due her rank—and rightly so. She wasn’t doing anything. She had no actual function here in the palace, and without a destination, she had nowhere to go to fullfill that function. It made her feel useless.

To add to her frustrations, Leonid and Chari were both gone, Queen Treya was busy running a kingdom, and her mother had just died. She was alone. Alone except for the one person who paid attention to her every day…Jerish. The gift she refused to open.

It was clear from his actions that he wanted a physical relationship with her. And she made it clear with her actions that she was having no part of it. Which didn’t mean she didn’t want it. Particularly now, she craved that contact. But actions had consequences, and that particular action wouldn’t cost her, but might well cost Jerish everything.

So she was alone in her room, sitting in a chair that in no way could be construed as comfortable when a knock on the door broke her reverie. Jerish. It had to be, as he was the only person who sought her out. She thought about not answering it at all, when there came a second knock, something Jerish never did.

Inspired to move by this tiny bit of mystery, she went to the door and opened it. Outside stood a man she had seen around the palace, but had never met. He was in his sixties, grey-haired, with a neatly trimmed beard.

“Yes?”

“Pardon the intrusion, Queen Rhea. My name is Angel Morrow. I’m the royal family’s personal physician and healer. I was hoping to get a moment to talk with you.”

“About?”

“May we talk inside?”

She glanced back at her room, and was suddenly embarrassed. It wasn’t big enough to entertain a guest. Instead of inviting him in, she stepped outside and motioned to the right.

“There’s a sitting room nearby. It would be a more suitable place to talk.”

Angel Morrow half bowed his acquiescence and walked beside her the short distance to the parlor. Unlike its upstairs counterparts, there were no rugs here, and the furnishings were not as impressive as those elsewhere in the palace. The seats weren’t quite as comfortable, which suited her fine. She took a seat on one of the two chairs, leaving the healer to choose between the sofa and the other chair. He chose the chair.

“Queen Rhea, I hope I’m not intruding, but I have come to ask after your wellbeing.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are seldom seen out of your rooms. You’ve recently lost your mother. Your family is elsewhere. How are you feeling?”

Rhea opened her mouth and promptly closed it. Did she want to have this conversation? Was she ready for it? Did she even have an answer to the question? She wasn’t sure.

“I’m fine. I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I was wondering if you had take a moment to visit Lord Ormund.”

Rhea didn’t answer. Why would she visit him? After all, her mother had sacrificed herself so that he could wake up. She didn’t just give up her life, she relinquished her soul. Whatever awaited most people in the afterlife, would be denied her mother because of this. Se Karn had no trophy to claim. She wondered if that bothered him.

“From my understanding, Lord Ormund is unable to communicate. Even were I to visit him, he wouldn’t understand me.”

“Not completely true, your highness. It is true that we can no longer understand Lord Ormund, though I’m not sure why. But he can understand us. There is every indication that the communication issue is a one way problem.”

Now that was interesting. Why would someone be able to understand a language, but not use it themselves? In spite of her desire to avoid the mage, this interested her. It could hardly be otherwise considering the goddess she had chosen to serve.

“I wasn’t aware of that. But you can see why I would avoid that encounter, can’t you?”

“Frankly, your highness, I cannot. Your mother willing gave the remnants of her own soul to repair another. It is not only an honorable death, but Lord Ormund, in a very real sense, is your mother’s resting place. It is where her true remains are to be found. It is my understanding that her body had been returned home for burial. You can visit those remains at some point if you wish, but that’s just a body. The essence of who your mother was is right here in the palace, but you haven’t thought to visit her. I was wondering if it might not give you some kind of closure.”

Queen Rhea looked at the healer in astonishment. She hadn’t thought about it from that point of view, and now that it was out in the open, she wondered why? She knew she had been angry at everyone over the decisions—her mother for making it, Queen Treya for allowing it, and Lord Ormund for needing it. It didn’t matter that it was unfair to all of those people, it was how she felt.

But this was an angle that she hadn’t considered. Her mother was now a part of someone else, and she hadn’t yet visited that person. The healer had continued talking, and she returned her attention what he was saying.

“Lord Ormund has returned to his own chambers, but he doesn’t get many visitors, as you might imagine. I thought it might do both of you good to see him, even if you won’t be able to understand anything he says.”

Rhea thought about it. There was no good reason not to go. And she really should pay her respects, seeing as the mage had been gravely injured by Captain Jericho, who had assaulted King Terrence. None of this was his fault.

“Very well. I’ll see him, though I have no idea how to find him.”

“I can take you there when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now. There’s no point in putting it off.”

Angel Morrow looked surprised, but stood, bowed as if in respect to her decision, and walked out into the main corridor. Rhea followed. Neither spoke as they made their way through the palace, up a flight of stairs and further toward the areas where the nobles that lived in the palace had chambers. Everything here was more lavish, the furnishings, and tapestries on the walls, the paintings, even the wall sconces were of higher quality.

When they reached Lord Ormund’s rooms, the healer knocked and a short time later, Lord Ormund opened the door.

He was thinner than Rhea remembered from first meeting him. His face looked haggard. From the circles under his eyes, it seemed like he hadn’t been sleeping. Rhea wondered if he really understood what his recovery had cost and if he did, what he felt about it.

He nodded to the healer and turned his attention to Rhea. His expression changed completely. He was immediately awake and engaged.

“Finally. Come in. I’ve been expecting you.”