Symbiotic Ascension : A Progression Fantasy Adventure

Lucian was still struggling to make peace with what he had just witnessed. When Bird-Mask had tried conjuring his Break spell again, an arrow covered in pale moonlight had shot straight into his forehead and shattered his mask. In that abysmally short lapse of time, men dressed in dark hooded cloaks melting into the black dunes had surged from the sand, grabbed them, and pulled them away. By the time the enemy Newborn Ruler recovered his senses, they'd already burrowed an incredible distance under the sand.

He glanced at Milena, Liara and her mount, Whitey. They were all staying calm, just like he had recommended before they were abducted. None of their captors had talked to them yet. If it wasn't for the men in black, they would have been buried in the depths of the desert, which, all things considered, wasn't too different from their current situation. The process they were using to navigate the depths of the desert was quite interesting, too. They were standing in some sort of large capsule with a pointy end, a rotating drill powered with Mana opening the way forward. A curious sort of magic engineering prowess.

'We're lucky,' thought Lucian, 'That Newborn Ruler didn't give his all whatsoever. He didn't even see us as threats.' Under his mask of regal composure and certainty, Lucian couldn't help but clench his teeth. Was this one of the Celestial Gods? So far, there hadn't been a single one of them that had appeared on the battlefield, and no Orcs had shown a level beyond Archmagi or Saint, which was already more than enough to turn the tides of the war, had they not possessed the secret weapons that were Glenn and his group.

Well, they were not so secret anymore, with them being heralded as heroes of the kingdom lately, but oh well. Lucian gave their 'captors' a closer look and his eyebrows rapidly furrowed. Their dark cloaks weren't enough to hide the pale skin beneath, a skin so white the blood pumping through their veins was visible. An eerie appearance, one connected to a certain type of people bearing an ancient curse.

"The Pale Sons," he blurted out in realization. Milena gasped in disbelief while Liara frowned, having come to the same conclusion. The only cloaked man who wasn't busy powering the burrowing capsule sighed and pulled down his hood. The skin on his face was almost transparent, not the ivory pale of vampires, but a ghostly white veined with visible capillaries. He had deep blue eyes, almost black.

"Sorry to interrupt your business, Your Highnesses, Duchess," he bowed to them politely. His hair was tied in a pair of buns, white like chalk, even though he looked barely thirty.

Milena raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to say the same, but who are you?"

The Pale Son glanced back at his comrades working tirelessly and sketched a smile. "We are the Pale Sons, the ones cursed by the White Plague. I am Helion, and this is Zoriana, Langster, and Villiam."

The three aforementioned individuals took a second off their work to nod at them, before concentrating back on maintaining the drilling capsule and their advance forward.

"We knew we would find you here," Helion smiled. "It is always disconcerting to see the prophecies coming true, I must admit."

"Prophecies?" Liara repeated, frowning.

Helion nodded. "Yes. Our... Envoy has seen you leading an attack on one of the Orcs' flying islands and coming face-to-face with one of the Corrupted. We were sent here to bring you back to the Envoy, as fate dictated it."

"Fate... Which God do you serve, Helion?" Milena asked, squinting sharply. "Envoys are powerful individuals chosen by the Gods. Whose will are you acting upon?"

Lucian tensed up, as did Liara. Depending on the answer, they might have to fight their way out. The list of gods that wanted to end their lives was growing a little longer every day. At first, it was only Epinos, then the Fallen Mother, but recently even 'righteous' Gods had deemed it good to shut them down. The memory of that void principle, probably conjured by the Divine Sage, was still fresh in their minds, after all.

Helion's smile turned sad. "For the longest time, we Pale Sons have begged the Gods for help, to save us from the White Plague. None could cure us, nor dispel the curse. Be they gods or men, all were equal in front of the White Plague. Until one of us came back from the desert of black sand, promising the truth and a path forward."

Milena's eyes widened. "No, it's impossible...!"

"He was part of your party once, and is now our Envoy, the leader of our people, the hope of a generation." Helion turned to the front of the capsule just as it burrowed out of the dunes, erupting in a surge of sand. The sun was still beating down hard on them, and the only thing of note was some sort of shabby structure of stone resting at the bottom of the dunes. Milena stole a glance at her Observer, but the signal was still being jammed. She couldn't even tell what their current position was.

The capsule turned to sand around them. "Please, follow us. All your questions will be answered once you meet him." Helion gestured at the small stone structure, a gentle smile on his lips. Lucian, Milena, and Liara exchanged a glance before nodding. Liara patted her pet's back and whispered something in its ear. The griffin shrieked and soared into the sky, quickly disappearing in the distance.

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Helion wasn't perturbed the slightest, not even sparing a glance at the mount.

Milena leaned in Liara's ear, curious. "Where did you send him?" she whispered. Liara shook her head while giving a pointed stare at the Pale Sons around them. Milena groaned in understanding, while Lucian simply strolled into the structure with his hands in his pockets.

'Let's see what surprises these Pale Sons have prepared for us. We'll have to find a way to warn Glenn and Sahro about the change of plan, though.' The gears in his mind were working at full speed despite his apparent relaxed state. 'If the Celestial Gods occupy the remaining towers, and a Newborn Ruler protects them, then we must regroup with Glenn. With all of us together, we probably stand a chance as long as the Newborn Ruler is alone. Too bad Liara and Milena aren't Archmagis yet.'

Oblivious to the turmoil in his mind, Helion and the other Pale Sons followed him in. It was an austere place, with simply four pillars holding a large slab of gray stone above the sand. No walls or doors. Just four pillars erected to keep a single slab of stone above their head.

"A little disappointing, I must admit," Lucian muttered to himself. Helion smirked and nodded to the other Pale Sons, who stepped before each pillar. Together, they pressed their hands against the pillars.

"Ayyatuha al-hayat, jaryan!" They shouted. Liara flinched, shocked. Lucian didn't fail to notice the surprise on her face.

'Seems like the Pale Sons know Black Heir tongue. Interesting. I wonder what they said.'

The floor trembled, and the sand flowed to the side, revealing another stone slab beneath their feet. The slab sank into the ground, bringing with it the Pale Sons and three surprised adventurers. Liara kneeled and pushed the sand off the platform, revealing engravings in the stone.

"Could it be...?" Her whisper was drowned out by the cascade of sand that accompanied their descent. Above them, another slab closed the way out and stopped more sand from falling. The hole they were descending into kept on widening the lower they got, just like a pyramid from the top.

Lucian laughed, surprised. "Of course! A pyramid! They're very rare in the Ink Dunes, compared to temples and ruins, and belong more to the Southern Continent, but it's possible. A buried pyramid, large enough to welcome all the Pale Sons that fled King's Rise. That's where you all disappeared to, a few months ago, right?"

Helion bowed his head in respect. "Your intellect has no equal, Your Highness. Yes, this pyramid is our home, for now. We hope to live in the Ink Dunes in the future, alongside the Black Heirs."

The Prince raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure whether trading the Sewers for a deadly desert with nothing but beasts and Orcs was the best choice. There are many other places the Pale Sons could have gone to in Munirp, even more considering the firepower you showed while fighting that masked Newborn Ruler."

Helion and the other Pale Sons chuckled. "Your Highness, I am sure you can check the level of our power yourself, right?"

Liara choked on her saliva while Lucian activated his Mana Sight. He had to blink a few times before realizing that this was indeed the truth. Helion and his comrades were all Magis at the Fourth Circle. A very respectable level of power, even more considering the White Plague supposedly stunted growth in the Aura and Mana department, but nothing close to what could hurt a Newborn Ruler.

"How?" Milena questioned, similarly shocked. "How did you hurt that masked man when you're so... weak?"

Helion smiled. "We weren't the ones to save you. We're only the transporters."

As the platform lowered itself, the actual size of the pyramid was revealed to them. There were countless tents raised everywhere, covering the ground with many small bumps. Some sparse ruined statues and water channels called back to an old, better time. Strangely, it reminded Liara of that unpleasant time she'd been captured by the Thorn's Church and brought into their underworld city, Penitentia. Thankfully, the Pale Sons weren't pain-loving cultists and didn't seem too intent on sacrificing them for some obscure purposes.

Silence also reigned in the pyramid, but it was a different kind from the oppressive one in Penitentia. Excited whispers and coughs, hopeful gazes and respectful bows. Liara held her breath, overwhelmed. Lucian crossed his arms together, satisfied.

"What do you think, Milena?" He asked innocently.

Milena scratched her head with all four arms, taken aback. "There are a lot of people down there. And this place is massive. It could make for a very good outpost for Munirp, too. Maybe we could try setting up a teleportation gate? Do you know how to do that, Lucian?"

The Prince shook his head. "I never could really understand all this mess about spatial coordinates and all that. And I'm not certain I want to bring soldiers into a refuge for civilians," he insisted, trying to ignore the pointed glances Helion and the other Pale Sons were throwing at him. The platform soon reached the bottom of the pyramid, a sort of plaza with sand-filled basins and more shattered statues. A hint of Mana floated in the air, ancient and powerful.

Lucian realized the pyramid was arranged into streets, with carved stone forming specific paths through the sand. He saw the Pale Sons walk away slightly and used the occasion to slip next to Liara.

"What did they say to open the pyramid?" he asked, curious.

Liara stared at him, a hint of nervousness on her lips. "O life, flow. That's what they said."

Lucian's smile froze. O life, flow? What did it mean?

'Wait.'

Liara grabbed his arm and warned him with a glance that seemed to say, 'Keep your mouth shut.' Lucian zipped his mouth closed and forced a smile back on his face. The other three Pale Sons saluted Helion and left them for another place, while Helion remained to guide them through the pyramid. Milena's eyes widened as she noticed kids, women, and even some elderly people. The White Plague spared no one, attacking without distinction or criteria.

Those who had just been affected by the curse would find their skin turning unnaturally white. The second stage of the curse would stunt progress in Aura or magic, while the third would make their vocal cords rot. The fourth stage transformed the Pale Sons into lifeless vegetables, their desires turned to ashes.

Lucian couldn't see any of these critically cursed individuals, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. He gulped heavily and stopped a sigh from escaping his lips.

'Now, there's something that's bugging me.'

'Why and how did the Pale Sons find Miyāh al-Ḥayāh, the River of Life?'