The Core's Origin

Anba had not been able to relax since the moment he had lost his Legate. While the loss of a Legate meant nothing to the god—he could easily choose another representative—he had lost a bit of control of the Concepts of both life and growth. What control he retained had somehow been altered, though he could not determine just how.

Even worse, Anba had clearly lost something else, something even more important, but the most frustrating part of that was the fact that he could not even determine what it was that he had lost.

It was infuriating, and he knew that he had been robbed and defiled by the entity that controlled the dungeons, and yet there was no way for him to get revenge on an unknown opponent.

If it would not see him sanctioned by the other gods, Anba would be strongly tempted to create an avatar with which to physically enter the world.

The gods had done so regularly in the past, which was how the human gods had prevailed, but their victory had damaged the planet itself, and humans had almost gone extinct. It had taken centuries of cautiously caring for the humans for their population to stabilize enough to ensure the continued existence of the human gods.

After that, the pantheon had decided that the use of physical avatars needed to be approved by the majority of the pantheon.

Anba was searching for anything that could help him track down the entity behind the dungeons, and he had all of his clergy carefully paying attention to any possible new developments.

The dragons should deal with the dungeon the gods had failed to destroy with their priests, so Anba sought other options. He wanted to utterly crush whoever or whatever was behind the dungeons, but to do that, he needed more information about his foe.

Fortunately, news soon arrived from Tamar.

Three refugees from the former Farun military crossed the mountains into Tamar, and when they did, they brought news of a previously undiscovered dungeon in the mountains at the site of Grthak’s lair.

Anba still smiled at the thought of the death of that eldar dragon. Grthak’s Concepts of death, destruction, and chaos had made them an intimidating enemy to the gods. Anba’s control of his own Concepts had not strengthened at all with the death of the dragon, and instead, Ixel had profited the most, but the death of any dragon was something to celebrate.

Unfortunately, the new dungeon did not stir any sort of response from Tamar, other than to quickly arrest the three refugees and send a messenger to the capital of the Savaren Empire.

Anba had his priests try to urge Tamar to take action directly, hopefully destroying the dungeon before it could establish itself, but the regent was determined to see his plan through, and the child queen was too young to have any influence on government matters.

Anba paid close attention, seeking any opportunity to cause problems for any of the dungeons, and so he made sure to have one of his priests present when the messenger arrived and requested permission to deliver a formal missive to Emperor Juaquin.

***

The messenger kneeled on the floor of the throne room, a hand extended to offer the written missive to the emperor. When the prime minister gave permission, the messenger opened the missive and started reading it aloud, never once rising or even raising his eyes.

He had been well trained in the etiquette of the various courts of the continent.

“In the name of Her Royal Highness, Queen Daphne, third of her name, royal regent Henry of Middleborough, offers a gift of friendship to his Imperial Majesty of the Savaren Empire, long may he reign.

“His Majesty knows that our two nations have had few interactions over the years, and lack both enmity and amiability.

“With the recent shift of the empire’s borders, our recent proximity has spurred our nation to extend a gift of welcome to our new neighbors, in hopes of heralding in a new era of trade and cooperation between each other as friends and allies.

“To this end, we offer a map of the mountains that border our two realms, with several regions of particular worth annotated for your benefit.

“We extend our wishes for the empire’s glory to grow ever more radiant beneath the auspicious rule of his Imperial Majesty, and anticipate a beneficial relationship for both nations in the future.”

It was not a long letter, and when the messenger finished reading, he offered the missive to a nearby page before reaching into a leather satchel and retrieving another scroll.

This scroll was treated with far greater care than the missive, and the messenger did not offer it to the page, but towards the emperor himself.

The meaning in the gesture was clear, and while the emperor would never accept any gift directly, he understood that some things could not be trusted to a mere page.

One of the imperial guards stepped forward to accept the scroll, and after carefully examining it, offered it to the prime minister for the man to review directly.

The man scowled at the unfurled scroll, irritated at the need to accept a gift offered by such a minor kingdom. What could they offer the empire that encompassed more than half of the continent?

Suddenly, the man’s breath froze, and his eyes bulged.

He looked at the emperor and gave a definitive nod. This gift was more than worth ignoring the worthless northern country. Their regent had proven himself to be shrewd and quick to take action, and the emperor appreciated such things.

A previously unknown dungeon was being offered directly to the emperor, and that presented many opportunities. While most of these opportunities were not unique, given the presence of at least three other dungeons, a secret dungeon could give the emperor a hidden advantage.

The empire was not fully united, and there were always various forces vying for greater influence, especially over the military. A secret dungeon could allow the emperor to strengthen his personal troops, which were constantly being quietly suppressed and sidelined by the various nobles who wanted to curb the emperor’s direct power.

A figurehead was far more desirable to those with some measure of power than a tyrant who could freely order them about.

This gift could help the emperor more easily retain his power.

***

Aaron had been alone in the dungeon for months, and he was certain that he was losing his mind.

After the griffin had shoved him into the dungeon entrance, Aaron had been able to feel where he needed to go. It had only been a short distance, and he had then personally witnessed as the dungeon had formed around him.

Oddly enough, he had never been able to see the changes as they happened, and instead every time he had turned around, things had been different. New chambers and hallways might appear, or an expanse of cave floor would change into a courtyard of flagstone. He would blink, and sconces with fire in them would suddenly pop out, illuminating the underground region.

While that had been both disturbing and fascinating, what had truly started to bother Aaron was the loneliness. He had been left entirely alone without anyone to speak to, aside from the skeletons that would occasionally appear for him to animate and practice with.

It had been months without any sort of human contact, and Aaron knew that he was slipping into madness.

He had started talking to the darkness, and even felt that he could occasionally hear a response.

There were times that he would look down at his hands and see mere bones bereft of all skin and flesh, and times when he would look down and simply observe the filth that covered him after weeks and soon months without bathing.

Aaron knew that he was avoiding a closer examination of his body, and the lack of water to use to bathe or wash his clothes gave him an excuse to avoid even looking at this body.

Fortunately, along with his senses of heat and cold, he had also lost his sense of smell. He shuddered to even consider how vile his stench must have become.

When the day came that water appeared in the dungeon, Aaron knew that it was past time.

He used a spell to shape a small pool that filled with water from the underground stream that had appeared. He tried to take off his filthy robes, but the thick crust that covered them meant that they were too stiff to remove normally, and they tore under his fingers.

The moment the rags fell away, so did a great deal more, and Aaron was left staring at his own skeletal remains.

The only thing that covered his form was a few scraps of flesh, as well as the stone that held his soul. Somehow, that stone had bonded to his breastbone, and thus did not fall away with the robes and rotted flesh.

Emotionally numb, and lacking the hormones to even feel some of the emotions that he knew he should be suffering, the first lich stepped forward into the pool of water and started scrubbing his bones clean.

With his past as a priest, Aaron could not miss the symbolism of washing his former self away.

That was the day that many things started to change.

The mental barrier that had prevented Aaron from accepting that he was no longer human, or even truly alive, had been forcibly shattered, and he lost many of the restraints that had been holding him back.

Gone was the impression that he had physical limitations. No longer did he cling to the thought that he should need to eat, sleep, or defecate. Instead, he embraced portions of his rising madness. He could focus on a single spell or obstacle that blocked his progress for days at a time, as with the lack of any sort of physical necessities, the lich could dedicate his entire mind to a problem until it was resolved.

Obsession became his escape from loneliness, though Aaron conveniently ignored the fact that he had started naming his skeletons and would occasionally hold conversations with them.

Speaking to the dead was not particularly unusual, but what was was the fact that Aaron had started replying to himself, giving voices to the dead who accompanied him.

Aaron had absolutely no idea how much time he had spent in the dungeon on his own by the time the first guests arrived.

He could sense the moment that they passed through the entrance of the dungeon, which was when Aaron had understood that he had somehow bonded with the dungeon and become a part of it.

However, that minor realization had been completely overwhelmed by the fact that he finally had guests! Other people to speak to! News of the outside world! Maybe even someone to accompany him and join him in his increasingly esoteric studies.

Had Aaron still possessed flesh and its various limitations, he would have been bouncing in place as he impatiently waited for the guests to descend through the dungeon.

He could vaguely sense their location, and knew that they were only in the first level, though their progress seemed to be agonizingly slow to him.

Maybe they were too weak to reach Aaron at the bottom of the dungeon? He should ascend a few levels to ensure that he could meet with them and encourage them to push further. He did not want to lose this opportunity.

Just as Aaron was about to leave his chamber in the dungeon, he felt a flicker of hesitation. The stone was still stuck to his chest, and while Aaron felt confident that he was a more powerful mage than any who had ever lived, the thought of any possible danger reaching his soul in the stone terrified him on a deeper level than he could comprehend.

It would indeed be better to leave the stone in a safe place, so he set it within the ribs of the massive guardian which was intended to be the physical power to his magical power as the twin guardians of the dungeon.

That settled, Aaron strode out from the chamber of stone, his new staff in his hand.

One downside to losing his flesh was the fact that his bony feet were far more unstable, and he more easily tripped and fell.

While he had learned that he could repair his broken bones with earth magic, he preferred not to humiliate himself in front of his first guests.

Not to mention, Edgar topped the staff, and Aaron had come to rely on the counsel of his favorite skull.

Edgar could be quite insightful.

Up and up Aaron rose, treading the familiar paths and hallways of the dungeon. He waved to a few of his friends, and scolded a few others who were not attending to their duties properly.

Really, why did Marie need to keep walking into that wall? She was supposed to patrol her section of the chamber, not try to walk through stone.

After moving past the larger form of Ben and his stone club and bone shield, Aaron was in the second chamber of the dungeon, entering at the same time that his guests entered from the opposite side.

This level of the dungeon was a maze, but with a mental map of the layout, Aaron knew exactly where to go to meet his guests. There was a central chamber that had to be crossed in order to proceed further. While seemingly countless passages connected to that chamber, only one connected to the second half of the maze. All of the other dozens of passages simply returned to the entrance or to the central chamber itself, so that would be where Aaron would greet his guests.

He smiled- Right, he was always smiling now…

He clacked his teeth in delight as he proceeded forward, still greeting his various friends and companions as he passed them.

He arrived at the chamber in just a few minutes. Closer proximity to his guests granted Aaron a better sense of their location, and he knew that they would take at least an hour to reach him, at their current pace.

He looked around the room. How should he greet his guests? He had no food or drinks to offer them, so any sort of meal or banquet were out of the question.

Right, he was the lord of this dungeon, so he should act like one.

A stage rose up at one end of the room, and it was topped by an impressive throne of stone that was accented by a few details of glowing lava.

Once Aaron was satisfied that he would give the best first impression possible, he took his seat, Edgar close at hand, and waited for his guests.

He quickly grew bored of waiting, and so he started testing his direct control of the undead in the room. Remembering one of the court dances he had needed to learn during his time as a high priest who regularly attended Guilone’s royal court, Aaron paired the undead and started reenacting the dance, as best he could remember.

There were a few mishaps and mistakes, but after a particularly successful twirl in the dance, he was interrupted.

“What in all the gods’ names is this? Are these zombies and skeletons dancing or fighting?”

Offended that the dance could ever be interpreted as a fight, Aaron spoke up, “Of course they’re dancing! How could you think otherwise?”

“Who said that?”

The dance partners split apart and opened a path between Aaron and his rude guests.

“I did.”

“What? We’re already at the end? Wait, this boss monster can talk? And it’s on a throne? Captain, we should retreat!”

“What? No! You misunderstand. I’m here to gree-”

Aaron could not understand what had just happened. He had been happily receiving his guests, despite their rudeness, when he suddenly found himself completely disoriented and in the depths of the dungeon again.

His vision was gone, and he could not quite make sense of his situation.

Gradually, he realized that he was back in his soulstone.

Had he died?

No, that did not seem right. Had his skeleton been destroyed? But when? How? He had not even finished what he had been saying!

…

Also, how was he supposed to move again without a body?

He might have gotten himself into a bit of trouble.