Victor of Tucson

Victor managed to bring the carved piece of ivory with him onto the spirit plane after two difficult, aggravating hours. The plant, however, took him nearly a week. After he succeeded, he was awarded with System messages declaring his Spirit Walk spell had ranked up to “improved” and that he’d be able to “more easily bring lesser beings and objects with him onto the spirit plane with an increased Energy expenditure.” The message felt like it had been a long time coming, and Victor’s relief and pleasure at seeing those words was on par with when he’d pushed his Berserk into the “epic” rank.

Dar was there to welcome him back to the material plane with words of praise and encouragement. They sat together in the grove of tall, quiet trees and enjoyed a meal together that Dar provided. They spoke about Sojourn, the political scene, and then, at much greater length, about the goings-on around the Lake House. Lesh had been entertaining sparring guests in Victor’s absence, just as he had been while Victor had been on Fanwath and secluded in his cultivation cave.

Victor nodded as Dar described Lesh’s guests—Drobna and Dovalion Boarheart, the plate-wearing, giant swordsman. He was glad Lesh was keeping up with his practice and also maintaining relationships with some of the stronger fighters in Sojourn. It alleviated some of his guilt for, once again, disappearing for days on end. In truth, he’d tuned out those feelings of guilt along with his recurring despondency regarding Valla. “And what about Lam and the others?”

“They’ve yet to return from their dungeon expedition.” Dar watched him polish off the last hunk of smokey, tangy boar meat. “Well? Are you ready for the next task?”

“I guess. I feel like I learned a lot from my struggles with that stubborn little plant.”

“I’m sure you did! The plant’s lesson will serve you well as you struggle to convince your physical form to join you on the spirit plane.”

“Yeah, I figured that was the point of it.” Victor sighed and handed his polished silver plate and fork to Dar. They disappeared into some hidden storage vault as Dar nodded and stood. Victor frowned. “You’re leaving? No words of advice?”

“Hah! You know what to do; it’s the same task as before, just…harder.”

So, just like that, Victor’s struggles began anew. Dar hadn’t lied; the task was the same, but it was strange as hell—in Victor’s colorful opinion—to be battling his own body. Beyond the strangeness of it, he found that his “self” was unreasonably stubborn. It wasn’t until three days later, with no sign of success, that he finally had a breakthrough in his thinking; if he couldn’t convince his entire body to come with him to the spirit plane, perhaps he could force part of it through.

“What the fuck would that look like?” he asked himself, staring at his hand, wondering what would happen if he dragged his little finger with him into the spirit plane. Would it simply be gone on the material plane? Would a void appear? Would his stump bleed, and would his regeneration begin to grow a new finger? He laughed at the idea and realized his most prominent fear—that he’d somehow permanently remove a piece of himself—wasn’t such a terrible worry; his ability to regenerate would make short work of a pinky.

So, with renewed excitement and inspiration—he’d constantly been operating under the influence of his inspiration-based spells—he began to try anew, this time simply focusing on the stubborn flesh, bone, and blood of his left pinky. The battle of wills was still there, but he could feel the difference. Those living cells put up a fight, but they were not, collectively, as strong as his entire body. When he appeared on the spirit plane and looked down at his hand, he laughed uproariously when he saw a solid, living pinky jutting out from his faintly ethereal, luminescent hand.

When he returned to the material plane, his fears of spattered blood and a stubby, slowly regrowing finger were for naught—the pinky was there, and he could find no evidence of bleeding. Whatever strange magic allowed him to bring just a part of himself onto the spirit plane seemed to defy the rules of physical flesh. With his confidence renewed, Victor got to work trying to bring more and more of himself onto the spirit plane. He managed his hand right away, but his arm defied him.

That resistance drew out Victor’s stubbornness, and he doubled down, focusing his will with long hours of meditation. He listened to the Energy in his body and worked to understand its desire to remain where it was. It wanted to be part of the light of the sun and stars. It wanted to be grounded to the planet. It wanted to be surrounded by air and to taste the moisture in the breeze. It wanted to feel the waves of sound bouncing against and through it—sounds of animals, plants, people, and things. Victor used each of those desires against himself, making levers out of them and pressing his will against them.

The hours bled into days, bled into weeks, and it wasn’t until sixteen days later that Victor finally achieved victory over himself, dragging his stubborn, recalcitrant flesh and blood—his entire body—with him onto the spirit plane. When he finally did it, when he opened his eyes and saw his solid, living, naked flesh sitting on the luminous loam of the magical, ghostly forest of the spirit plane, Victor tilted his head back and howled at the stars.

He stood and danced, howling and crowing, struggling to believe his battle was over; those weeks had been the most frustrating, annoying, mind-bogglingly boring days he could recall, and it was like a wave of constant relief and new-found excitement kept rolling through him every time he looked at his hands, flexing his fingers into fists in front of his very real, very solid eyes. Only after he’d howled his lungs out several times did he notice the heavy drain of Energy on his Core. When he looked inward, his eyes bulged when he saw he was nearly drained and that Energy was pouring out of his Core at an astonishing rate.

Before he ran himself dry, Victor hastily ended his Spirit Walk spell, and as soon as the material plane snapped into existence around him, he was bombarded with System messages:

***Congratulations! You have learned a new spell – Spirit Walk: Advanced.***

***Spirit Walk – Advanced: Prerequisite: any spirit-based Energy affinity. Using the fundamental, primal nature of your Energy, you send forth and sustain your spirit on its essential plane of existence. You’ve mastered the innate resistance of your flesh and can now walk physically upon the Spirit Plane. Be warned that your body will be vulnerable to harm in ways your projected spirit would not. The duration of this spell is dependent on your Energy stores. Manifesting a physical presence on the spirit plane is extremely costly. Energy Cost: Minimum 50 - scalable. Cooldown: Short.***

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 69 Herald of the Mountain’s Wrath and gained 12 strength, 17 vitality, and 12 will.***

***Congratulations! You have earned a Class spell: Voice of the Angry Earth – Basic.***

***Voice of the Angry Earth – Basic: Prerequisite: titanic, colossal, or gargantuan bloodline. Channel the volcano's fury, projecting it in a roar that will brutalize the senses of your foes. Drive them to their knees with the power of your voice, reminding all who stand before you that just because it slumbers does not mean the mountain is at peace. The power of your roar will be influenced by the strength of your aura and the amount of Energy you pour into the spell. Energy Cost: Minimum 2000, scalable. Cooldown: Medium.***

Seeing those messages made Victor feel like the many days he’d spent struggling against his own body had been worth it. A broad smile split his face, exposing white, straight teeth, and he laughed, clapping his mighty hands together. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!” With eager anticipation, he looked at his attributes:

Name:

Victor Sandoval

Race:

Quinametzin Bloodline - Epic 2

Class:

Herald of the Mountain's Wrath - Legendary

Level:

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69

Breath Core:

Elder Class - Improved 3

Core:

Spirit Class - Epic 2

Breath Core Affinity:

Magma - 9

Breath Core Energy:

2200/2200

Energy Affinity:

Fear 9.4, Rage 9.1, Glory 8.6, Inspiration 7.4, Unattuned 3.1

Energy:

433/35458

Strength:

478

Vitality:

628 (691)

Dexterity:

190

Agility:

213

Intelligence:

172

Will:

661

He laughed when he saw his current Energy level; he really had almost drained himself by bringing his physical form onto the spirit plane, and he’d only been there for a couple of minutes. He turned toward the lake, thinking it might be amusing to try out his new spell, but Dar was already standing there.

“That was well done, Victor. I was pleased when I saw you work on bringing your body through piece by piece. I thought I might give you that guidance, but my master did not do so for me, so I thought it might be wise to follow his example. It seems I was right; you gained much from the effort.” He stepped closer, resting his large, heavy hand on Victor’s shoulder. “While you were on the spirit plane, I noted the Energy infusion hanging heavy in the air—you gained a level?”

“Yes!” Victor was too exuberant to hold back. “My Spirit Walk is now ‘advanced!’ and I gained a new Class spell—Voice of the Angry Earth.”

“A shout ability? This will pair well with your feats and bloodline boons!” He nodded, tugging Victor’s shoulder. “Come, let’s walk toward the house. You’ve secluded long enough and accomplished the only thing that was absolutely necessary before your journey to Ruhn.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I have the strength and reserves of Energy to pull a being like you onto the spirit plane, but I would have struggled to pull you all the way to Ruhn. Now, you can do the lion’s share of the lifting where you are concerned.”

“Um, I don’t know about that; I ran dry on Energy after only a couple of minutes—”

Dar waved his hand. “You’ll work on that over the next few months. Each day, before you rest, you’ll project your physical form onto the spirit plane. With practice, you’ll extend the time you can hold yourself there. Our journey will take less than an hour. As long as you can hold yourself on the spirit plane for that duration, I can do the work of moving us.”

Victor nodded. If there was one thing he understood, it was grinding out incremental gains. “So I have time?”

“Yes. The hardest part is getting yourself there. Imagine how much work it was to do that; now imagine doing it for another person. You’ll be able to, eventually, but it’s taxing.” As he spoke, Victor and Dar descended the path to the lakeshore, where a small wooden boat bobbed in the shallow water, bumping into the shore with each gentle wave. Dar pointed to it. “Climb aboard, and I’ll ferry us back to the house. Tomorrow, you’ll begin that routine you pestered me about.”

“I can’t begin to tell you how ready I am to get some sparring in, Lord Dar. I was going nuts sitting in that grove day after day.” Victor sloshed through the shallow water, his boots and pants sloughing the water off like a seal’s skin. He climbed onto the little boat and added, “If I hadn’t figured out how to bring myself over to the spirit plane little by little, I would have gone mad. Seeing the progress day by day kept me going.”

Dar nodded. “You’ve earned some exercise. The mastery of your body’s will and the ability to physically walk on that plane are both keys to greater powers.” Dar nudged the rudder, and the boat turned and began to speed silently over the water, leaving a long, deep wake as it rushed toward the center of the dark water. Dar continued, “For example, you can now move, unseen, unfelt, and much more quickly, from point to point on the material plane. When you’ve gained more Energy and an even stronger will, I’ll teach you how to bridge worlds. The spirit plane doesn’t have ‘worlds’—it is all-encompassing, but the expanse between planets is too vast for a normal walk.”

“I was wondering about that!” Victor took in the stars and moon, enjoying the rush of cool lake air against his face and through his hair.

Dar was quiet for a minute, but as the lake house came into view, he said, “You’ll spar in the mornings, as I promised. Your follower has arranged for new partners each day for the two of you. After sparring, you’ll be given two hours to cultivate your breath Core. After that, I’ll have lessons for you. I’ve decided that a course on runic structure will serve you the most at this time. Many rituals—like the one we did for your friend, Lam—require knowledge of sigils and runes. They serve as a way to channel and direct your Energy, giving it purpose much the way that a spell pattern does.”

Victor nodded emphatically. “I’ve wanted to learn about that stuff!”

“Good! Moreover, the knowledge will help you on Ruhn. If you’re victorious in your duels, you’ll be given treasures and gifts, and many will likely be enchanted. It would be dangerous to expose a gap in your education by relying on others to explain those treasures. Never mind that you wouldn’t know if you could trust the person aiding you.”

Before Victor could check himself, his tongue got away from him. “What about Elder magic?”

Dar looked at him and frowned. “What of it?”

“Do you know how to read it? The spell patterns and sigils and—”

“Better to avoid curiosity about that, Victor. Many have found their downfalls dabbling with pre-System rituals.” He sighed, and as the boat sped toward the pier outside his home, he turned his blazing eyes on Victor and, in a much sterner voice, said, “People more powerful than I have destroyed themselves pursuing Elder magic—literally and figuratively. I’ve seen a man rip himself apart, atom by atom, and I’ve seen a woman go mad to the point where even a racial advancement treasure was wasted on her, unable to salvage her wits.”

“Really?” Victor frowned. “I had it in my head that maybe part of being a steel seeker or becoming a veil walker was learning to do Elder magic. Like, it was a time for us to learn to grow without the System guiding—”

“That’s not correct.” Dar turned the rudder, slowing the boat and bringing it up alongside the pier. “The System will still be there. It will still award you and provide guidance, but you’ll have more freedom to direct your development—this all begins at level one hundred when you build your Class.”

“Ah, I see. Yeah, I knew about that—the Class building, I mean. I just thought maybe it was the first step of being free of—”

“Turn your mind from such fantasies, Victor.” Dar stepped out of the boat, hardly causing it to dip into the water, and it took Victor a moment to realize the huge, weighty man must be adjusting his weight somehow; how else could he keep the little vessel from shifting in the water? By contrast, Victor had to use every ounce of his agility to avoid falling as the boat tipped and rocked under his feet. When they were both on the solid planks of the pier, Dar clapped his shoulder and walked with him toward the stairs leading up to the house. “Tell me, what got you so interested in Elder magic?”

Rather than be caught out in a lie, Victor shared part of the truth: “When I was on Zaafor, in the city of Coloss. I met another traveler who claimed to be from a world where the System had been rebuked; she said the people there used Elder magic.”

Dar stopped and pressed Victor’s shoulder, turning him until they were face to face. “Is this one of the secrets you’ve held back from me?”

Again, Victor didn’t want to lie. He knew better. “Yeah. She made me swear not to reveal her identity.”

Dar nodded. “It’s good that you understand the weight of such a promise. Well, you’ve heard my words of caution. You’re no child. I do hope you’ll heed me, however. Now,” he turned back toward the house, “let us feast and share your good news with your follower.”

As they walked up the steps, Victor thought about Dar’s warning and his earlier assumptions about Elder magic and the System. There was certainly something that he was missing. He didn’t believe that Dar knew nothing about Elder magic; it simply didn’t make sense. The man had been around for millennia, and Victor had only been walking in this part of the universe for something like two or three years if he were guessing—he really didn’t know. How could he know more about such a subject than Dar? He could believe he knew more than the other iron rankers in Sojourn; they’d led sheltered existences, but Dar had been places—conquered worlds.

He supposed Dar’s admission that he’d seen people ruin themselves pursuing Elder magic was enough to spell the truth: his master knew much more but wanted to shelter Victor from dangerous knowledge. As they made their way into the house and Dar sent one of the servants to look for Lesh, Victor sat down, still deep in thought. His mind kept returning to the book he’d found in the Iron Prison. He was sure it contained writings in the same script of the spell Tes had taught him. Despite Dar’s warnings, he hoped his lessons with the master Spirit Caster on runes and glyphs would help him wring some secrets out of that book.

“You seem very lost in thought, Victor. Are you still dwelling on our earlier discussion?” Victor looked up to see Dar, a drink in hand, taking a seat on one of the plush couches.

Victor smiled and tried to steer the conversation to a safer topic. “I was, but now I’m thinking about my Class and the spell I just learned. I’m going to be choosing a new refinement at the next level. Do you think there’s any chance I’ll reach seventy before I leave for Ruhn?”

“Not likely. Not unless you kill someone—or many people, depending on their strength.” Dar chuckled. “The last level in any tier is always the steepest, and gaining levels through cultivation or skill and spell improvement is a slow way to go about doing it. You did so tonight, thanks to the fact that you were already on the cusp.”

“Right. Yeah. I suppose that makes sense.”

“I’ve been thinking, Victor. We should talk about your strategy when you get to Ruhn. I’ll keep it brief for now since you’ve had a long day and deserve some rest before tomorrow’s tribulations, but consider this: My granddaughter has two kingdoms practically laying siege against her. They’ve been pressing her for duels, so they’ll be quick to receive her acceptance of their challenges. I believe it would be wise for you to win those battles using very few of your abilities, perhaps even using a weapon other than your precious axe. The less you show, the easier a time she’ll have when she moves to consolidate her new position and challenge other neighboring kingdoms.”

“Wait a sec.” Victor chuckled, shaking his head. “You want me to fight some steel seekers without Lifedrinker? Without using my abilities?”

“They’ll likely not be steel seekers. Those kingdoms are small and weak—not far above Kynna’s in terms of might and prosperity. In my estimation, it won’t be until you’ve had a few victories before you begin to find yourself faced by a steel seeker.” When he saw Victor’s scowl, he added. “It’s just a thought. Think about it as you train; the less your enemies know about you, the better.” He nodded his head toward the hallway leading to the foyer. “I hear your draconic follower approaching. Enjoy the night—tomorrow your training will be…intense.”