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Court of Thorns: A LitRPG Story
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Court of Thorns
The Eternal Journey, Book Five
By C.J. Carella
Published by Fey Dreams Productions, LLC
Copyright @ 2021 Fey Dreams Productions, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without the express prior written permission of the copyright holder. For permission, contact [email protected]
Cover by: SelfPubBookCovers.com/ billwyc
This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Books by C.J. Carella
The Eternal Journey
Twilight Templar
Lord of the Dead
Labyrinth to Tartarus
Guilds at War
Court of Thorns
Siege
Warp Marine Corps
Decisively Engaged
No Price Too High
Advance to Contact
In Dread Silence
Havoc of War
Warp Marine Corps (The Complete Series)
The Bicentennial War
To the Strongest
They Shall Not Pass
Victory or Death
The Bicentennial War (The Complete Series)
New Olympus Saga:
Armageddon Girl
Doomsday Duet
Apocalypse Dance
The Ragnarok Alternative
New Olympus Tales:
The Armageddon Girl Companion
A Crucible of Worlds
Outlands Justice
Short Story Collections
Land of Gods and Monsters
Heroes and Rogues
Beyonder Wars:
Bad Vibes (Short Story)
Shadowfall: Las Vegas
Dante’s Demons
Prologue
Aristobulus Highgarden raised his head when he heard the door to his cell begin to clink open. He wasn’t hungry, so it was too early for chow. Unexpected visitors could mean only one thing.
This is it, he thought, too tired and miserable to care very much.
He didn’t know how long it had been since he had respawned back at the Nerf Herder’s compound and found himself manacled with Witch-Hunter Chains, which drained the wearer of Mana and prevented spell-casting. Weeks, at least. Maybe months. It felt like he had been in the damp dark cell for ages. The discomfort had been bad, but what had driven him nearly insane had been the boredom. All he could do was lie on the straw-covered ground with nothing to do but smell his own crap and wonder how everything could go so wrong.
The door creaked open and light from a lamp shone down on Aristobulus, who blinked dumbly at its painful brightness. Someone was entering the cell, but he couldn’t make out who it was in the glare of the lamp; he heard footsteps getting closer.
“Hello, Aristobulus,” someone said in English. “What was your name on Earth?”
“Sean. Sean Rickard,” he said hoarsely, and felt his parched lips crack painfully when he spoke. His jailors gave him food and water, but never enough of either. “Are you here to kill me?”
“No. I wouldn’t bother talking to you in that case. My name is Jake Duchamp. You know me as Archmage Jacobus of the Council of the Wise.”
“Yes, of course. We didn’t know you were from Earth.”
“Would it have made any difference if you did?”
“Maybe. We would have tried to recruit you, I think. At least, I would have suggested it. Kaiser made the final decisions, though.”
Kaiser Wrecker was dead, or so he had been told. Struck down by Hawke Lightseeker in single combat, supposedly. Aristobulus had been elated. He didn’t think he’d ever hated anybody more than he’d hated the leader of the Nerf Herders.
“Kaiser made a lot of mistakes. But you helped him do a lot of damage.”
“I had no choice. We all had to follow his orders.”
Jacobus didn’t sound very sympathetic when he replied. “You know, just before I was dragged to the Realms, I heard that excuse a lot: ‘I was following orders.’ Germans loved to use that line after they lost the war. You went along and helped Kaiser murder thirty-three people in the Council’s Tower. I didn’t like many of them, but they deserved better than having their throats cut in their sleep, or getting shot in the head when they tried to defend themselves.”
Aristobulus shrugged. “I got shot in the head, or that’s what they tell me. I don’t remember much of it, but at least it was quick.”
“You Reincarnated. My colleagues didn’t have the luxury, except for the handful who invested in a Soul Jar.”
Aristobulus felt too tired to beg for his life, but he gave it a half-hearted try. “We all swore oaths to obey Kaiser. Final Death if we broke them. By the time we realized he was a power-hungry bastard, we were stuck.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Nobody made you swear to behave like a barbarian, though. Your little band of brothers has ninety-six counts of rape to their name, just to mention one kind of crime. And those are the victims willing to testify to that.”
“I never raped anyone.”
All he’d been interested in had been magic. Mastering the Elements, feeling his Mana pool become stronger, those had been his drugs, sex, and rock and roll. He’d seen what some of his guild mates were doing, had even complained to Kaiser once or twice, but eventually the reality had sunk in; as long as they were useful, the ‘active duty’ Nerf Herders could do whatever the hell they wanted in their private lives. Aristobulus had learned to withdraw to his study and ignore the screams and the ugly laughter. And he had known what Kaiser did to Rowena regularly and looked the other way.
“I didn’t do those things,” he added. “But I did let them happen. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, but it’s a start. That’s why I’m here. There might be some hope for you yet.”
“What do you want?”
After getting used to the idea that there was no way out of this mess, the mere possibility that he might return to his magic nearly brought tears to his eyes. What if Jacobus was lying? That would be the cruelest torture anyone could inflict on him, to give him hope only to take it away.
“The Council will secure your release. You will have to pay hefty fines for your crimes, of course. Hope you kept some expensive loot in your Bonded Vault, because all property you held outside it has already been seized.”
“I can pay. I have over a dozen platinum coins and a thousand gold denars, plus lots of items.”
As soon as he spoke, Aristobulus wondered if the whole thing had been a ruse to get him to reveal how much stuff he had in his Vault, the personal pocket dimension only he could reach. Now that they knew, they could torture him until he coughed up all the cash and items he’d mentioned.
“That will do, for a start,” the Archmage said. “You will also have to swear an oath of servitude to the Council of the Wise.”
“More oaths.”
“They will be far less restrictive than what Kaiser made you swear. We aren’t monsters, but we can’t take the chance that you will betray us or try to make a break for it.”
“Yes, of course.” It was a better deal than his current predicament. “I’ll do it.”
“I’m not done yet. You will have to accept a pretty dangerous Quest as well. That’s the main reason I persuaded the Council to give you a second chance.”
“I’m listening. Could I have a little water while you tell me?”
“Here you go,
” Jake said, handing him a bottle he magically produced from his Vault. It was chilled water with a dash of lime and even a bit of sugar mixed in, and was the best drink Aristobulus had ever tasted in his life.
“Something is happening to the Malleus Mallum,” Jacobus went on, and Aristobulus started coughing as he choked on the lemonade.
“That hell-hole! I hate that place!” he yelled when he got the cough under control.
“Well, it’s getting worse, and you are one of the few who has reached the Deepest Pits and lived to tell about it.”
“That’s how I hit level twenty,” he admitted, and shivered when the bad memories came to the surface. “The things down there, they don’t just kill you, you know. They like to make it last. I’ve blocked out most of what happened, but what little I remember is enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”
“I can sympathize, buddy, but that’s the deal if you want out of here. You’ll need to guide a party into the Labyrinth.”
“Why? What is happening to it?”
“For starters, its monsters have been getting loose and tearing up the countryside.”
“That’s not supposed to happen. Other than Events, once every month or so.”
“Not Events. Those come with warnings beforehand so the civilians can go to shelter and Adventurers can show up and collect valuable prizes. These are just appearing without warning. Elite monsters. Started happening last week, and it’s getting worse. The City Prefect had to mobilize the Ninth Legion, which he didn’t do even when the Trogg Undercity was discovered. Things are getting serious here.”
“And you want me to help.”
“It’s the price of your release. The alternative is pretty bad. They executed your pal Naruto yesterday.”
“He wasn’t my pal. How bad was it?”
“Bad. The Imperials like to put up a show. Drawn and quartered. Then, after he Reincarnated, they dragged him out and did it again. When he came back from that, they burned him to death. The rest were simple beheadings. The last couple of times he didn’t even know who he was or why people were doing that to him.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“It’s a rough way to go, all right.”
“I’ll do it. Who else is coming?”
“I’m talking to a couple other Herders. Maybe Amelia Blueflame.”
“She wasn’t that bad. I mean, she’s a bitch, but she didn’t like the stuff Kaiser was into.”
“She and Zippo are the most likely candidates.”
“Zippo is crazy.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Two or three mage types can’t go into a Labyrinth alone.”
“Of course not. We’ll send a few City Watchmen along. Elite Cohort. And, if I can get him, someone from outside the city.”
Aristobulus could think of only one person that Jacobus might be interested in.
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. I want to wrangle Hawke Lightseeker for this expedition.”
“Oh, no,” Aristobulus repeated.
One
“Dammit! I’m getting married in two days, in case you haven’t noticed!”
Saturnyx’s stern but calm voice acted like a bucket of cold water. Hawke Lightseeker began to protest, thought better of it, and nodded.
“Okay, you are right. I was thinking of downing a couple of glasses of that new brandy the Dwarves brought to town. I guess doing an hour of Mana Channeling is better for my health.”
Hawke sighed as he sat down in the lotus position, which was a little hard in the leather pants he was currently wearing. Normally he did his Channeling naked, but that wouldn’t work in the Domain Lord’s office in Orom, where a councilor could walk in at any moment. Flashing town officials wouldn’t be proper, or good for morale. Well, Mistress of Coin Antana might appreciate the view, but not the rest.
Yeah, yeah.
It took a few moments to settle down, activate Tranquil Mind, and let go of everything except the flow of Mana through his body. He still didn’t understand the mysterious energy that allowed the use of magic and a whole bunch of abilities one might as well call superpowers. In the Realms, it permeated everything, living or inert. Matter and energy were interchangeable; he had learned that in high school and thought that Mana was a way to tap the energy bound in matter. Or maybe the Makers had simply infused everything in the Realms with the stuff for some reason. To make their inhabitants stronger, perhaps, or, if his new acquaintance Jake the Wizard was right, to breed super-soldiers to use in an endless war.
Whatever it was, Mana could make you stronger, faster, and more durable than humans or anything that lived on Earth. It came in a variety of colors or flavors, based on the Element, Force, or School of Magic it empowered. And it flowed inside living bodies through a complex network similar to the circulatory system, except that instead of one heart, it had seven. They were called Chakras, energy gateways that needed to be opened to reach one’s full potential.
Hawke had one Chakra left to open. After awakening the Crown Chakra, opening the next two (Heart and Throat) had been shockingly easy. It had taken about six hours of meditation for each of them, and his main problem had been making time in between the dozens of things he had to get done every day. As a result of the two open gateways, his Mana had increased by another twenty percent, and his Mana regain was up by another two points per minute. More importantly, he’d gained some special abilities from them. The Throat Chakra let him communicate telepathically through Mana pulses, and granted him a Shout attack that unleashed sonic shockwave on everything around him. The Heart Chakra had raised his Health by ten percent and improved his Advanced Mana Sight’s ability to identify emotions in others.
All that remained was his Third Eye.
The Crown Chakra had given him a ton of insight about his energy network and its connections. He could feel every node pulsing with power, and see concentrations of all the diverse ‘flavors’ of magic he had unlocked. The Elements were the simplest: Fire was bright orange, Death a deep purple, Life a warm, refreshing green-yellow, Light a brighter, sharper shade of yellow, and Darkness inky black. Then there were the Forces: Celestial shone in intense golden hues, Order came as an unblinking whiteness, Mind a pastel pink, and Chaos appeared as a swirl of many colors, speckled with black motes. He also knew two Schools of Magic that combined different Elements and Forces to produce unique results. Twilight was a swirl of yellow and black and Undeath a sickly green with purple hues. Each concentration of colorized Mana used its own sub-channel, staying away from the others.
Pure Mana was a pale blue that thrummed with potential. It could become anything. Hawke suspected that at higher levels he would be using it more often than the rest, or perhaps exclusively. Now that he was a Mana Mystic, he could do some amazing stuff with Pure Mana. He followed its flow through his body until it reached his Third Eye. Unfurling the previous six Chakras had involved a lot of finesse, except for the Root Chakra, which he had blown open, with painful and near-fatal results.
From the looks of it, unlocking the last one was going to be like solving a puzzle, or beating a Rubik’s Cube. The energy ‘veins’ that led to the Third Eye were thin and tangled together. Forcing them open would damage them and send uncontrolled bursts of Mana into his body. After what happened to his Root Chakra, he had no intention of risking doing that to his brain. He’d probably die or lose what passed for his mind.
Instead, he gently coaxed Mana through the network until it found the blocked pathways, and tried to carefully twist them o
pen. Even the slightest miscalculation sent spikes of misery right through his brain like the mother of all migraines. He’d been making progress, however, and…
“Lord Hawke!”
“Son of a bitch!” Hawke shouted, his concentration gone. His head began to throb painfully and he leaped to his feet, grabbing at his temples.
Centurion Marko Clades of the Sunset Legion stared wide-eyed at Hawke. “Lord Hawke! Are you all right?”
“I’m just peachy,” he said through clenched teeth. “Bad timing, Marko, but it’s not your fault. I probably should have hung a tie over the doorknob, or something.”
“I don’t understand, lord.”
“My bad. Carry on. What can I do for you?”
“A patrol just returned, my lord. They met a stranger on the road who demanded to see the ruler of the Domain. He struck down several men, none of them fatally, but showed that he was far too powerful for a fourth level Warrior and ten regulars to handle. His level was too high for Sergeant Dekimo to identify.”
“Dammit.”
Adventurers could only see the level of people or creatures no more than fifteen levels above theirs. That made the newcomer level nineteen at a minimum.
“All right,” Hawke said. “Assemble another mounted troop, and put half the Adventurers on duty on it. Alert the Guild and have them send a balanced six-man party to join it. Where did the patrol find the stranger?”
“Twelve miles to the west, along Traders’ Rut.”
That was one of Orom’s main roads, leading to mountain pass that connected the Sunset Valley with the western Imperial road network. It was heavily traveled and was linked to dozens of villages along the way. The guy hadn’t killed anybody yet, but that might change. He’d better attend to this personally.
Sorry, honey, but I’ve got a headache and a dangerous Adventurer to deal with.
“As soon as the troop and Guild attachment are ready, send them there. I’m sure Kinto has already alerted the Town Guard.”