DemiGodChapter 16 Betrayal
- 2 years ago
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Day 91:
After armoring up, including her sword, spear and shield, and stepping out of her tiny barracks cell the Flight Leader led her up a stairway she’d been warned never to use. They passed several passages branching off, until reaching the very top. Geiravuir hammered the iron bound door they found there, and a grim faced Hrund opened it from within.
She frowned at Veronyka, but motioned both women to enter. Beyond was a spartan office, holding a desk, several chairs, a weapons rack on the wall, and three other Valkyries: Brunhyldar, Raiginlef and Herja. There was another door behind the desk, but it was closed.
None of the women looked happy.
“What have you to say about this?” Brunhyldar demanded imperiously.
“Uh, say about what?” Veronyka asked in confusion.
“What have you been encouraging my daughter to do?” Geiravuir hissed.
“To keep working hard, learn as much as she can, and make a few more friends. Someone who appreciates who she really is, not what you want her to be.” Veronyka answered easily.
“That is all?” The Flight Leader didn’t look convinced.
“As far as actual encouragement, yes. She’s an inquisitive girl. She asks about all sorts of subjects. I’ve tried to answer everything I can. Some of it I’ve had to put in terms of what I know from my world, but I don’t believe I’ve ever lied to her, or hinted that she should do something bad. Why? What’s happened?”
Veronyka was getting nervous at the direction this conversation was taking.
Brunhyldar stood abruptly. “We will show you, and you will tell us what it means.”
Bracketed by Brunhyldar’s pet Valkyries, with the Squadron Leader in front and Geiravuir behind she found herself surrounded their for their trek back down the stairs. Even at the late hour, they passed more than a few others already up and about. Or perhaps, not yet ready to sleep. Their route wound up to a lookout position, like the one they passed through on her and John’s way to the amphitheater on her first day. She wouldn’t have known it was a different one, except that when they exited into the valley beyond, its landscape was much narrower, and bore no signs of civilization beyond a faint trail leading higher into the rocky terrain.
At the far end they found the remnants of a small camp just a few yards off the trail. Rocks shielded the tiny fire pit, with two larger flat stones pulled up beside it. A small overhang shielded the back above a cleared spot large enough for a small sleeping spot. It took Veronyka several minutes of examination to determine that much, while the Valkyries waited silently.
“Is this Routa’s?” She asked finally.
“It is not.” Herja asserted.
She walked over to point at a mark on one of the flat stones.
“The person who sat here carries a dagger at the center of their back. Does Routa carry anything besides her sword?”
Veronyka shook her head. “No, only the sword, ever since she earned it back.”
Herja nodded her agreement. “And this one is closer to the back, where this person slept. That other one has wood scrapes from Routa’s practice sword, as well as a chip made by her real blade. Routa visited here often, but she was only a guest. The person who stayed here knew where to be, so that those stationed in the lookout couldn’t see her. This is the closest scouting spot. Whoever camped here did not want us to know of their presence. I’ve already talked with several who have been on duty over the last many days, none save Routa ever entered or left via the path we took.”
“Okay...” Veronyka waited, unsure what it meant.
“My daughter took your advice,” Geiravuir accused, “but found a friend who is not one to the rest of us.”
“What does she say about whoever it is?” Veronyka wondered.
The Flight Leader’s face clouded. “She says nothing, we cannot find her to ask.”
“Those on duty last evening reported that she departed just before the day’s last light.” Herja continued. “She never returned. Her room contains none of her personal items, excluding her bedroll.”
“She ran away?” Veronyka was shocked. “But, she was so cheerful when we ate last night! We talked all about what I knew regarding John’s-oh no!”
“What did you speak about?” Brunhyldar demanded, when she paused in shock.
Veronyka gulped. “When John did the Challenge, we had a way to see through his eyes, from my world. Everything except the actual Challenge tasks themselves. Somehow that was blocked. She asked about his route, what he saw and did. Everything!”
“This didn’t make you suspicious?” Geiravuir yelled.
“Hush, sister!” Brunhyldar hissed. “You know this area is not safe.”
The Flight Leader nodded her acknowledgment of the rebuke.
“Why would it?” Veronyka lowered her own voice too. “We talked about all sorts of things. It wasn’t even the first time I told her about it. Besides, you all know what happened. I didn’t tell her anything more than I’ve already told you, Brunhyldar.”
“The details of your ... friend’s journey through the Halls are not generally known. Now that the Door below is blocked, and the End’s population has departed, we’ve begun sending a few of our most experienced in via his route. The dragon is difficult, though. Jyon said only one in three pass the Challenge, and this has been true for us as well. Nine of our most knowledgeable, capable warriors are gone.” Brunhyldar’s voice broke.
“Nine of our sisters.” Hrund muttered.
The other two Valkyries bowed their heads in silence for a moment.
“We now know where our daughter and her ‘friend’ went.” Herja asserted, finally.
Brunhyldar nodded. “We do. Sisters, is it our time?”
“I will go.” Herja agreed.
“I will join you.” Hrund growled.
“Sister,” Brunhyldar turned to Geiravuir making the Flight leader pause with her mouth open, “you must maintain the succession. Should I return, you may attempt. Should I fall, you will do your duty.”
Geiravuir’s face fell. “I will do my duty, as you command.”
The Flight Leader stepped close to her superior, gripping forearms with the Squadron Leader.
“Bring my daughter home!” Her voice broke. She gulped and continued. “She is young, and impetuous yes, but I sense the spark of greatness in her. Punish her if you must, but please, I beg you, teach her and return her to our embrace!”
“If I am able, I shall do as you ask.” Brunhyldar agreed, with a single tear dripping down her cheek.
The two women put leaned their foreheads together for a long moment.
When the Valkyries surrounded her for their return to the fortress, it felt far less imprisoning.
“Do you know who her friend might be?” Veronyka asked Herja during the walk back.
“Know? I do not.” The Valkyrie admitted. “Do I guess, yes I do. I fear the worst.”
“Who?” Veronyka wondered.
“Herja.” Brunhyldar spoke over her shoulder.
The Valkyrie nodded. “I dare not say. The Leader is correct. Should we find the truth, then I will speak.”
“Okay.” She had to accept the answer, since it was obviously all she would get. “Um, so can you tell me what you meant about the Door being blocked and the End population departing?”
The Valkyrie looked surprised. “You have not heard? No one has told you?”
“Heard what?” Veronyka begged. “Tell me, please.”
“Herja.” Brunhyldar said again.
“Brunhyldar.” Herja’s voice accused.
“She will be told. Abide a short while.” The Squadron Leader insisted.
“A very short,” Herja accented ‘short’ harshly, “while.”
She gave Veronyka a helpless shrug, so the doctor stopped asking questions.
When they reached the lookout, Brunhyldar addressed Veronyka.
“We will meet you in the dragons’ lair. You shall come with us. Obtain provisions for a long journey, and equip yourself for danger. This will not be easy.”
“I will, Squadron Leader.” Veronyka saluted unconsciously.
The dragons’ lair was what the Valkyries called the cavern she and John had landed in when they first arrived. Numerous smaller caves branched off its back wall, which the dragons used for individual ‘residences’. When she arrived, Brunhyldar personally led her over to one of those.
“Go in. She wishes to speak with you.” The Squadron Leader urged.
The opening was large enough for an elephant-sized beast to enter, and the cave beyond was even larger. The dragon resting inside was larger than any of the Valkyries’ mounts, but only half as large as Zirnitra. She looked identical to the larger Lady of Chaos, with one significant difference. Where the wings should be, all that remained were two scarred stumps jutting out.
An eye opened to regard her.
“Hello?” Veronyka said tentatively. “I’m Veronyka. Brunhyldar said you wanted to talk to me?”
A rumbling voice rattled Veronyka’s bones. “They spoke truly I see. You bear Randgyrd’s face, and carry the weight of a terrible legacy. Have you tried returning to your world, since being blooded as a Valkyrie?”
Veronyka blinked. “I have not. Why do you ask?”
The rumble turned to a coughing laugh. “You accepted another’s form when you came here as a Visitor, yes?”
“Yes, though John says my face is the same.”
“It matters not, the face you bear now will now be the one you wear always.” The dragon rumbled ominously. “Fryja’s descendants all carry the seeds of her chaotic nature. It interacts in strange ways with both the magic of this world and that of Ky’ur’s brood. You killed another in combat, accepting your new body’s natural gifts. Those gifts carry a price.”
“Are you saying I can’t go back home?” Veronyka’s heart quailed at the thought.
“I do not know, for I am not of Ky’ur’s brood. But I am of chaos, and you too smell of my world. For good or ill, you are now a Valkyrie.”
Veronyka shook her head. “That wasn’t what I wanted! At all!”
The dragon picked up her head and opened another eye. “Ah, your mind resists its new form. You already pay the price, but receive little benefit from your choice. Why do you fight it?”
“I’m a genius in my world.” Veronyka said proudly. “I don’t want to lose that.”
Another coughing laugh. “You fear embracing a warrior’s heart will lessen your scholar’s mind? But is it not so, even in your world that there have been scholarly warriors of great renown?”
“Uh, I guess so.” Veronyka hedged. “I was ... am a healer in my world too. We take an oath to do no harm.”
The dragon’s head dropped back down. “Then I can do nothing for you. Your path forward is covered in blood. Your own if you hold to your former self; your enemies’ if you adapt. Only you can chose, but all who reside here will feel the consequences of your decision. A warrior will be our possible salvation, this Gyundul has Foreseen. A martyr will be our doom. I’ll not indulge your cowardice. Begone.”
The eyes closed.
Veronyka stumbled out of the cave, her head whirling.
“Shall we go?” Brunhyldar asked.
Veronyka’s eyes settled on the portal stone, standing alone out on its stone outcropping.
“I have to know.” She muttered to herself.
“Do you flee?” Brunhyldar called, when Veronyka’s destination became obvious.
“I have to know.” She said again, to herself, shaking her head.
The black and red flames that appeared when she stepped onto the stone platform scared her even more than the dragon’s words. They flickered in an unusual manner as well. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.
Welcome back Guest. As you have blooded your Valkyrie form in a manner opposed to that organization’s goals, but not completed any other prerequisites, your status within the Network has changed. Would you like to hear your options, or do you wish to return to your entry portal?
Veronyka’s heart sank.
“Is there no way to undo this?” She sobbed.
You were warned that the decision was irrevocable, and would have consequences. If you do not decide, a random choice will be assigned to you involuntarily.
“Okay! Okay!” Veronyka held up her hands. “What are my choices?”
You may choose from the following list:Merge your original form with your Valkyrie one. Note: this decision has further options within it. This option results in a change to provisional Traveler status. You shall be restricted to the three portals you have used up to this point until completing a Challenge in First World.
Return to your original form, at your first portal. This option results in a lifetime embargo on use of the Network. Note: this will remove all effects from your current form.
Keep your current incarnation, with its Guest status. This option results in a pause on these consequences, except you may not use the Network until you return and choose, or your status changes separately. Note: this refusal to decide now carries a time limit.
Note: this decision is irrevocable as well.
Thinking of John’s new one, she asked, “What are my options, if I choose to merge forms?”
Those options are not available until you make your decision.
“What’s my time limit, if I keep my current form?” She asked, dreading the answer.
A single solar revolution for the world you reside on.
“Fuck me!” She screamed out her frustration. “What do I do now?”
Even with tears streaming down her face, some part of her sensed the change. She spun in place, shield and spear coming up into guard position.
The woman who regarded her could’ve been sisters with Brunhyldar or Geiravuir. But her armor looked nothing like the Valkyries’ plain, functional, medieval protection. A gray-green bodysuit with armored plates covered her from toes to neck. Various sigils and insignia faded into view and back out in a random pattern on the chest and shoulder plates. Some were brightly colored, while others were more subdued. None were anything Veronyka recognized.
A blade hilt poked up over one shoulder, and a knife was sheathed in each leg’s greave. Her gauntlets reached all the way to her elbows, and both carried an assortment of what looked like projectile weapons. A full-face helmet was tucked into the crook of an arm. It had a narrow T-shaped slit for eyes and nose/mouth. Minus a jet-pack, the woman looked more like a character from a science fiction movie than a Valkyrie.
The woman’s voice reminded Veronyka of Gyundul’s. “I bid you peaceful greetings, daughter.”
“Uh, hi.” Veronyka replied, glancing around.
She was still inside the Network, that hadn’t changed.
The woman cocked her head. “You appear confused, do you not recognize me daughter?”
Veronyka sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t. I’m not really your daughter.”
The woman was plainly shocked. “Randgyrd, you do not recognize me? Truly?”
“I’m sorry.” Veronyka said helplessly. “Randgyrd died a while ago. Somehow I look just like her. This ... place gave me her appearance as part of my traveling here.”
The woman looked around curiously.
“How have you come to possess my daughter, in Between, and carry the weight of my legacy?”
The Network voice sounded, but in a language Veronyka didn’t know. The woman and the Network carried on a rapid conversation for several minutes before she turned her attention back to the conflicted woman.
“Ah, I see now that you are trapped by the decisions you’ve made. You wished for my daughters’ strength and power, without realizing that it carried obligations of its own. Is this true?”
Veronyka nodded. “Yes. And I have no idea what to do now. I’m not sure I can live up to whatever legacy you’ve put on me, but if I try to escape I’m worried I’ll condemn your real daughters and my friends to a horrible fate.”
The woman stroked her chin in thought.
“Uh, and out of curiosity,” Veronyka ventured, “you are Fryja, right?”
She smiled. “I was. You have heard of me?”
“My friend, John met your husband, Wotaanz actually.” Veronyka said proudly.
Fryja’s smile turned sad. “Wotaanz. I bore him children, charged to finish our task, as a true shield-partner should, but sadly we were never wed in the manner of my people. He holds on, his soul valiantly waiting for its chance to finish our task. I am but an echo of my former self, brought here on the currents Between to aid in protecting my legacy. Should you succeed, and my lover find peace at last, only then will our souls have the chance to find each other again.”
“Oh.” Veronyka was at a loss.
“What is it you wish to do?” Fryja asked.
Veronyka gestured down her body. “This form hasn’t been much help to me, but uh, I never learned the dragon’s name who said I wasn’t accepting its ‘gifts’. I’m not sure I can live up to whatever you expect of me, even if I do.”
Fryja shook her head. “These are reasons, excuses. What is it you wish to do?”
Anger welled up in Veronyka’s heart. “I want to protect my friends, and teach our enemies a lesson they’ll not forget!”
“You wish this truly?” Fryja asked, interested.
“Yeah!” She pounded the butt of her spear into the ‘ground’ for emphasis.
Fryja held up a hand. “Think for a moment, examine yourself. Is this your honest, strongest desire? That path is dangerous, and fraught with sorrow.”
Veronyka ignored her cautious words. “Yes! I—”
Fryja’s gaze was accusing.
“Thrice heard, and witnessed.” A voice sounded.
“Thrice asked and thrice answered.” Another echoed.
Your choice is recorded, Guest.
Lady, you must depart now.
Fryja nodded. She held up her helmet, and turned it around to it faced her. Veronyka noticed a wing sigil fade into view on each side. It changed colors from gray to black to red before disappearing. She stepped up to Veronyka and put it above the doctor’s head.
“Remember, you asked for this. Do not falter, your path will be hard.”
With that, the metal descended, and with it darkness, pain, and possibility.
Your decision has further options, would you like to hear them.
“Yes.”
You must sacrifice one of the following:Your genius-level mental capacity
Your extensive medical knowledge
Your personal memories
Randgyrd’s memories
Randgyrd’s warrior instincts
Randgyrd’s connection to chaos
Note: this decision is irrevocable, and will have unforeseen and unknown potential consequences
Veronyka floated in painful darkness for an unknown time.
“Is there anything you can tell me about this decision?”
There is not; you must make this decision without knowing more.
Fryja’s voice echoed faintly. “Let go of your previous path, or it will consume you.”
Veronyka sighed. “My medical memories, I guess.”
This decision must be confirmed. You wish to sacrifice your knowledge of your home world’s medicine, but integrate your form’s latent memories, instincts and connections?
“I do. Yes.” She gulped.
John had told her it felt like like an intense itching feeling. This was nothing like that. Her mind was ripped apart, fragmented into a million separate parts. Some of them were removed, gone forever. A greater number were added before it was all jammed back together inside her skull.
Veronyka screamed and passed out.
Dreams. Flashes of places she knew, but had never seen before. People she fought with, and beside. A thousand bouts to the death. Weapons she suddenly understood at a level she could barely imagine. A death she’d never experienced. The unrelenting cold of Between.
Fryja’s final moments with Wotaanz, and his oath to reunite with her somehow.
“Wake, daughter of my flesh. Return, daughter of my house. Let my Technomancer Legacy be felt in the Challenge World once more.”
Veronyka was lying on the portal stone, with wind whistling through the arch opening. Everything hurt, even her brain, especially her brain, and especially everything else.
She groaned, sitting up. Vertigo. She slammed her eyes shut. Even those hurt too. She sat like that for a long while, until the pain receded into a dull ache before reopening her eyes.
The entire Valkyrie host was crowded along the cliff edge staring at her silently. Dragon heads, scores of them peered at her from up and behind the women. Every hand held a spear or shield, though not in a threatening manner. Brunhyldar herself stood in the center, where the outcropping met the cliff proper.
“Well, that sucked.” Veronyka muttered.
Her voice echoed in her ears. The helmet Fryja had put on her head was still there, only now it felt so natural she’d barely noticed. So she lifted it off, undoing the retention strap with an unconscious flick of her fingers. She was going to put it down and stand when she noticed it was different. The color was now a dull, scarred, dirty gray. She turned it around, and found the wing sigil flashing on and off, red-colored only on each side.
Her armor was different now, as well. It was an armored bodysuit like Fryja had worn, only that same rough gray hue. The gauntlets were thick and stiff, with empty receptors where the projectile launchers had been on Fryja’s. None of the other insignia or effects like Fryja had were operating.
“Definitely not in Kansas anymore.” Veronyka muttered, staggering to her feet.
They wanted to do something different than her brain was used to.
“Slow down, let it come naturally.” She told herself, relaxing into what her body desired.
Where had that come from?
Brunhyldar’s steady stare bore no welcome. Snatching the helm with her off hand, Veronyka strode up to her.
“What’s going on, Brunhyldar?” She asked.
“With who do I speak?” The Squadron Leader demanded. “My sister, Randgyrd, who I see in your movement, or the Visitor from Jyon’s world named Veronyka, who I see in your eyes?”
“Uh, a little of both actually. But mostly me, Veronyka.” She replied.
“I have not seen armor like yours in a very long time. Where did you get it?” Brunhyldar scowled.
“The Legacy has returned!” A voice carried over the crowd’s head.
Valkyries stepped aside behind the Squadron Leader to let Gyundul step up beside Brunhyldar.
“I greet you, shield sister.” The Seer smiled warmly.
“I greet you in peace, Sighted One.” Rolled right off Veronyka’s tongue.
Gyundul’s face showed surprise. “I see that some of my sister has returned with you.”
Veronyka nodded. “I needed her help to fulfill whatever it is you and your mother expect of me.”
Gyundul shook her head. “I expect nothing, save that you follow the path that seems right to you. Do not confuse my mother’s legacy with predestination. Your choices are yours, as are the consequences to bear for them. As for my mother, well she is beyond us now, so her expectation matters less than you might think. Though her reach is long, I see.”
“You’re not kidding.” Veronyka muttered, looking down at the helmet by her side.
“You have not answered sister.” Brunhyldar broke in. “How did you acquire that armor?”
“Well,” Veronyka held up the helmet, “your mother, or rather a, um echo of her or something gave it to me. I guess the rest came with it.”
“What has happened to you?” The Squadron Leader’s question more concern than interrogation.
“I’m not totally sure, but I’ll try to explain.” Veronyka promised. “Do you want to do that right here, now?”
Brunhyldar glanced around. “No. Can you travel? Our task has not changed, though you have delayed our departure.”
“Yeah, I had something that needed doing first. But I’m ready for duty.” Veronyka saluted, then glanced down at herself in surprise.
Brunhyldar laughed, which spread through the crowd. She stepped forward and swept Veronyka into a bear hug.
“Welcome home, sister!” She whispered fiercely.
Veronyka awkwardly hugged her back. When the Squadron Leader stepped back, Gyundul stepped forward. The Seer gripped her shoulder with one hand, holding out a small rod with the other. The rod was metal, as thick as a spear but only as long as her forearm. Each end tapered to a sharp point.
“I have held this in trust for a very long time.” The Seer explained. “Sangrydr recovered it from the battlefield when Fryja fell. I did not discover her theft for many years, but now I think it should be yours.”
“Uh, thanks. What is it?” Veronyka accepted it.
“It was our mother’s spear.” Gyundul said while Veronyka examined it. “She could make it extend from either end, or both at will in combat. Her gauntlet could even recall it from a distance, should she be disarmed. I know not how to activate it.”
“Extend.” Veronyka repeated, holding the rod horizontally to look for a button of some kind.
Both ends shot out, making a spear slightly longer than she was tall. Gyundul jerked as gasps rippled through the crowd. Veronyka’s eyes tracked up to meet the Seer’s surprised stare.
“You never tried that?” She asked tentatively.
Gyundul chuckled. “I believe I did, actually. It seems the weapon accepts your commands, where it did not for me, or my disgraced sibling.”
“Retract.” Veronyka tried, collapsing the weapon.
Gyundul tapped Veronyka’s right thigh, on the outside. “She stored it here, behind the armor.”
A close check showed a small opening which the rod slid into snugly. Drawing the thing was going to take some practice.
The Seer stepped back, as Hrund took her place. Embrace after embrace crushed her ribs as more Valkyries than she could count paid their respects, and welcomed her back as their full, honored sister. Somewhere in there, Brunhyldar announced that they didn’t have all day, and started shooing most of the women away.
Once the hugs were over, and the crowd streamed back into the fortress, with more than a few backward glances, Veronyka realized she had another group to address.
Zirnitra stood in the center of the giant cavern, surrounded by the smaller mounts. The wingless one who’d spoken with Veronyka earlier limped up beside the larger one. Part of her foreleg was missing as well.
“I too greet your return, and welcome you home!” The Chaos Dragon’s voice boomed.
“Thank you!” Veronyka bowed deeply.
She turned to the wounded one, and repeated her action. “And thank you, for prompting me to face the truth.”
She got a coughing chuckle for that. “Though they are warriors, your sisters still sought to protect you, as best they were able. Now that you have accepted your situation, and face difficulty with courage, I have a gift for you as well.”
A mount separated out of the group, slightly but noticeably smaller than the rest. The ‘saddle’ straps didn’t have as many attachment points for supply bags, and it would probably not carry more than Veronyka alone, but the dragon walked to the reborn Valkyrie proudly.
“Her name is Ream’ch.” The wounded dragon told her. “She is our smallest, I suggest you do not over burden her wings. But she has secured the honor of aiding you in your task.”
“Ream’ch?” Veronyka stepped up to let the dragon rub her head on her new rider’s chest.
They spent a few moments greeting each other before Zirnitra spoke again.
“She carries a special enchantment, which is very difficult to create, and not at all comfortable if activated, but I believe you will need to journey through lands where her nature cannot be known. Daughter?”
Ream’ch stepped back and closed her eyes. Then shrunk, and kept on shrinking until all that remained was an egg-shaped oval, no longer than a finger from end to end.
“She has agreed to bear the discomfort without complaint for as long as you need.” The Chaos Dragon assured Veronyka. “When you wish her to return, merely call her name and she’ll respond.”
Veronyka did so, and the dragon mount returned to normal size, like a balloon being pumped back up.
“Thank you!” She bowed again, to all three.
“May your enemies learn to fear you, and fail to see your approach before you strike them down.” Zirnitra blessed, before disappearing in her customary rippled distortion.
The next few minutes were filled with learning how to strap down both her supplies and herself so she wouldn’t fall off, getting to know Ream’ch’s quirks, and more well-wishing from the Valkyries who were preparing to launch on their own mounts. Someone fetched her a replacement shield and sword, plus two boot knives when she asked. The new sword mounted neatly to two anchor points on her back plate. It was another hour, marked by repeated frowns from Brunhyldar, before the Squadron Leader, her two aides and Veronyka took to the skies.
They landed at the upper entrance to what Veronyka vaguely remembered as the ‘Upper Passage to the Door’. The signs of exodus were unmistakable in the frozen wasteland. Corpses littered the landscape, increasing in number as Veronyka’s eyes tracked the trail off into the distance. Scavengers, both avian and walking or crawling picked at what remained. She even spotted a giant or two, emaciated and starving as they batted aside other beasts in search of food.
Three months later: It was almost exactly ninety days later that they finally took him to their ‘testing facility.’ The implant surgery went off without a hitch, but for that they used a state-of-the-art medical/surgical center near D.C. The room they put him up in to recover was nicer than most resorts he’d been to! They checked his progress daily, and ran so many tests he grew tired of asking when they’d be done. Not that his days were empty, though. Veronyka brought their linguist, a...
Day 1: He blinked, and was in a different place. The stone disc, the arch with two flames, surrounded by unending dark were all as they’d been described. He took those in at a glance. What interested him the most was his own body. Bracing himself for disappointment, he looked at his feet. Toes. Ten of them. Somebody was saying something, but that wasn’t important right now. He’d get back to them later. Heart pounding, he lifted both hands. Ten fingers, two thumbs, two palms. He rubbed his...
Day 2: John woke up the next morning to Deni calling his name. “Jonmorgan! Jonmorgan! Wake up! My father says you must come meet the council. Wake up, Jonmorgan!” “I’m up, I’m up.” He muttered, sitting up on the fur-covered pallet in the tiny cell they’d given him. “Tell Rorik I’ll be there in a minute.” “Yes sir!” Deni said from the other side of the cloth they’d hung in his doorway for privacy. “Damn, I could use some coffee.” He muttered. Good morning. He heard. We didn’t want to...
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Day 7: The stairs went on for miles. They weren’t steep, but twisted and turned such that John quickly lost his bearings. He kept their pace slow, to give Hal time to scout and kept them from stumbling into a situation they couldn’t handle. Several times the Cambion returned with news that the stairs ended at a naturally occurring cavern before resuming. They cautiously examined each one, but all appeared to be natural voids in the rock. After Mason informed John that he’d been walking for...
Day 8: They camped in the storeroom over night. Watching the stairs with a fire at their back made the time more bearable. They each took slightly longer shifts, so Hal could have a short one last. His fire-warmed, dry armor felt like heaven when he got up. “Thank you all.” He told them when they got up in the morning. He scouted up the stairs to the next level while they packed up. He found another storage floor at the top of the flight. This one was bigger, wider, with pantries and meat...
Day 9: The dragon settled back into the center of a massive stadium carved from the mountain itself. The doorway they’d entered through had a mirror image on the opposite side of the arena floor. At the end, in the same direction as the stairs they’d come up, was the only break in the oval stands. It was narrow at floor level, but widened into a wedge shape leading out to what looked like massive siege-resistant walls behind. Ice coated the cavern ceiling, reminding John of the domes...
Day 10: John walked back into the Halls of Valor arena on First World just in time to see Hal’s ice dome vanish. The Cambion crouched between head-high ice and rock walls that rapidly sank back into the floor without a trace. He held his saber in one hand, and bore several gouges about his person, including cuts on his face. He swayed with exhaustion, but a Cheshire grin plastered his face. He straightened, sheathing his sword, and marched toward the dragon. John sped his pace, and got to...
Day 13: The four companions walked up to the gates of Tygus’s fortress three days later. The fortification sat atop an enormous ridge that ran southeast from the mountains west of the Ice Crag. The only way up the Western Rim, from the west was a single path, with a tower standing at the summit, twin to the one at Watchtower. Going around the Rim required a journey of seven to ten days hard march to the south, depending on the season. Tygus had made that concrete tower the cornerstone of his...
Day 14: John lay silently in the snow, just like his friends. All five of them had made camp, with a visible fire just before the sun went down. Once it was too dark to see, they’d all stuffed their blankets and wormed their way outside the fire’s light. Hal had cast an illusion on the bedrolls, making them appear occupied. The Cambion, Treb and Ranveng all slipped out onto the rocks they’d camped next to, while Sygraid and John took their position inside a snowbank on the other side. Their...
Day 17: John and the others strode up to the End’s wall just before sundown. They’d pushed hard to make it by nightfall, and all were exhausted. The guard stationed at the tower top took a second to recognize Sygraid, but once he did, they were allowed entry without delay. Sygraid instructed the Watch to bar the door, and only allow actual Enders inside without approval from her. She sent Treb to track down Heegan, and meet them at Rorik’s. “Uh, Sygraid,” one of the Watch that John didn’t...
Seconds later: John opened his eyes to Veronyka, Steve and Malcolm waiting for him. They quickly unhooked his harness and helped him get dressed. He noticed the medical leads dangling uselessly and the small pile of attachments on the floor. He could hear shouting in the distance. They moved out into the hallway, and turned away from the noise. It sounded like more than one angry person was arguing. John tried to keep up, but he was noticeably slower without his running prosthetics on. “In...
A week later: Veronyka and John pulled into the dirt beside the Fort Laird airport. The entire town of Fort Liard covered about three square blocks, off the number 7 highway, which the locals also called Liard. It sat at the junction between the wider Laird River, and the smaller Petitot. The only gas station in the entire place was out where the partially paved road intersected Liard Hwy. The airport itself covered the southeast side of town, and boasted a whole two hangars, with a few...
Day 26: The End’s snow-covered tundra flashed into existence once Veronyka made her decision. In a blink, she was a couple inches taller, several pounds of muscle heavier and wearing what John thought of as ‘Valkyrie standard armor’. The only difference in what she wore was the complete lack of wings sprouting from her helmet. A shield and spear appeared in her hands as she flashed him a grin and a wink. John meanwhile was checking out the area. He spun around, so she could access his...
Day 27: John’s eyes snapped open at the soft treads in the hall beyond his door. Two? Yes, two sets of feet moved cautiously until they were standing just outside. He heard leather creak, and the occasional click of metal on metal. His hand slipped off the pallet to find the Tooth’s haft. What is it? She asked. Someone just outside, be ready. I am always ready, even when you’re busy stabbing your woman. John had no reply to that, but whoever it was seemed inclined to wait. He debated...
Day 28: A dwarf John didn’t recognize shook him awake sometime during the ‘night’. He put fingertips over John’s lips to keep him quiet, but helped him get dressed quickly and made sure John had his ax and knife. Apparently, Dard made sure to give it back before departing. The new dwarf hustled John down another hall, through many rooms, some occupied and some empty. When they got to another sturdy looking door, they were met by another pair of dwarves, these wearing armor identical to the...
Day 29: John jerked awake, snorting sometime after nightfall. Inside the room it was pitch black, but his Sight allowed him to see the worgh females and pups clustered around him. Their own sleeping noises ceased when his did. Heads came up, both adults watching him warily. Keeping his movements slow and obvious, he held a hand out for each to sniff. To his surprise, a pair of tongues, like large-grain sandpaper scraped across his palms after a few minutes. He tentatively gave neck scratches...
Day 65 “Filthy, no-good, back-stabbing, traitorous bastard!” Syg came storming down the stairs into the brazier room. It was a lot less crowded, now that those fighters with family could camp with their loved ones. Those without family used the other room, the one connected to the tunnel that the Adepts had completely filled with ice. All that remained in the room with John were Rorik and his family, to include Syg and Treb of course, plus the Captains and their families, though Khapu and...
Day 75: “Sygraid and I will go first.” John told Rorik as they stood at the exit to the Valkyrie’s no-longer-secret passage. “Yes lord, and I will keep the group together as we move.” Rorik acknowledged. “I await your signal.” Only way through it is to do it. John mentally steeled himself. He Scanned the valley ahead. It was a wide gully between peaks, still snow covered and dotted with ice-coated rocks. It sloped up to a small ridge in the direction they wanted to go and offered...
Day 85: When the Raiders came to rouse them the next morning, they found the group already awake and ready for whatever the day might bring. Kort led the contingent, his blood-shot eyes zeroed right in on John. He beckoned the leader over, and shook his head when Rorik and Sygraid made to follow. “Good morning.” John smiled at the man’s wince. “Feeling it this early, are you?” “Aye.” Kort grunted, frowning. “I have asked the blacksmith to use someone else for his anvil, but he continues to...
Day 86: “King Kort?” John called. “Your, uh majesty?” Kort was wasting no time moving into the King’s House. A small army of slaves, male and female were taking furnishings out, and replacing them with items the new King wanted. The Raider himself was directing the process from just inside the massive double doors that marked the demi-palace entrance. John paused at the threshold, his Sight quickly locating his new ruler. “Jyon? How are you this morning? Have you come to post yourself as...
Day 86 & 87: The two men popped into existence at the Final Harbor portal just as Svend and Skyald were departing the Arena. Both stopped dead, staring at John and Ellis. John nodded a greeting, but received only blank stares in return. “Just my luck.” John muttered. Ellis was rubbernecking, as much as he could in the fading sunlight. “What’s that?” He asked. “Those two,” John pointed, “I was hoping to keep my Traveler ability secret. It’s not like I can trust anyone here.” Ellis’s...
Virginia, U.S.A. Mid Twenty-first Century A.D. (Gregorian): Colonel Herb “Spooky” Mason checked the connection ID when his latest ‘burner’ rang its silly tone. He couldn’t stand the sound, but if he spent time fiddling with the settings on every disposable phone he bought, he’d never get anything else done. The ID wasn’t familiar, but that wasn’t unusual. When you go dark, every contact becomes a one-time thing. Too easy to track you down otherwise. And given that his girlfriend had been...
Day 119: “Land ho!” The cry from one of the Far-eyed crew drew every eye on the ship. A hand pointed off into the distance, at a slight angle from their course. Judging carefully, Svend adjusted to head directly for the distant shore. Their sister ship, with Kort’s prime lieutenant Aric at the helm, mimicked their move. The two ships had been at sea for most of the last month, and John was itching for some action. Or even just a break in the monotony. At first it had been interesting. John...
Day 120: John’s shoulders ached. As did his back. And buttocks. Hell, even his toes hurt. He had no idea how long they’d been rowing, but guessed it had been a couple of hours at least. Modi sat on the bench opposite his and was matching his new boss stroke for stroke. So long as he was still conscious, John refused to let one of his men get the best of him. Each of them had a chained slave seated on the bench, closer to the hull. Both of those men were already beyond exhaustion. Neither was...
Day 121: Welcome back Traveler, please note that your Visitor status remains defunct. You have a total of seven previously-encountered portals that you may choose to exit using. You have also made a Moral Choice, which places you at odds with your current political master. This meets the Traveler criteria for World number 6,626,070,041,034. Please indicate which destination you desire. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” John exclaimed. “What the fuck does that mean? Argh!”` “Okay,...
Days 122-129: When he was growing up, no ‘action’-labeled entertainment was complete without at least one chase sequence. As time went on, these scenes got more and more outlandish, with all manner of vehicles speeding, dodging, and swerving in and out of the most complex environments imaginable. The drama lay in the audience’s expectation that the main character would narrowly avoid disaster by the barest of margins, often with at least one glancing blow that they miraculously survived. In...
Day 130-140: The Islanders of Sweetwater Port refused to allow anyone off the boat when they anchored. A swarm of canoes launched from shore a short while later. “No dock?” John asked. Vasin shook his head. “No, and the ground underneath the water is quite shallow near the shore as well. The natives consider it part of their protection.” One Islander, obviously the leader climbed up onto deck first, followed by a small, well-armed entourage. “You are a Raider vessel.” The Islander...
Day 140: The angry blue reptilian form charged across the small island, neatly sliding around the central gazebo without pause. She jerked to a stop on the cliff overlooking Nefiume as the undead emperor hoisted Ozur’s body above his head. Typhon raised one double-thumbed claw, pointing at their foe. Nefiume appeared to finally notice the dragon, head jerking in a double-take right before a fountain of water welled up from the sea beneath. The instant wave crashed over the emperor’s body,...
Day 91-92 / Unknown / Day 140 continued: Shouldering their way through the crowd of standing death made Veronyka’s skin crawl and her stomach heave. The stench was awful, clogging her nose with its eye-watering pungency. Bits of desiccated skin, scraped off by the rough exterior on their armor, clung until scraped off by yet more decaying flesh. The wet smack of still-damp tissues hitting the ground, and liquid squishing as their boots crushed the bio-litter underfoot were enough to make...
Day 90-91: Welcome back Traveler. As you have achieved a journeyman rank from completing a recognized course of study in a field applicable throughout the Network, your provisional status has been removed. You have a total of four previously-encountered portals that you may choose to exit using. You have also met the Traveler criteria for any other portals connected with your organization on World number 5. Please indicate which destination you desire. Veronyka grinned. “The one outside the...
Day 91-92 / Day 140 continued: The ice melted, revealing a woman easily mistaken for Hrund’s twin, with pitch black hair instead. Eyes as clear and cold as the glacier above their heads regarded her expressionlessly. Her shield was round on top, but elongated below like an inverted teardrop, and had a large metal boss in the center. Her other hand carried a long spear, with an axe head sticking out at the base of the blade, and a spike sticking out the other side: a halberd. It was the first...
Day 141-143: The sun was just beginning to light up the Tower’s watery exterior when John and Veronyka got up. The former doctor had strung up a hammock, with enough material for two, between two of the pavilion posts at the island’s north end. In an amazing display of nonverbal communication, Sygraid, Hal and a few others comprehended Veronyka’s desire for privacy. They kept others away while the two lovers reunited. They spent the night pressed together, touching, caressing and finally...
Day 143: John couldn’t be sure from the distance he watched, but this dragon felt like it was the largest yet. If not the biggest, then definitely the scariest. Her head reminded him of the worgh, with sharp spines lining every contour. A ‘mane’ of more horns flared at the base of her skull, leading to a row of them dotting her spine. Her wings were folded, and every joint, including her legs was defined by a jutting tapered spike. Her scales were deep red, with shiny platinum and gold...
Day 149-153: Sergeant Major (Retired) Jeffrey Ellis jumped to his feet as Veronyka barged into the meeting. The unruly looking filthy men and women who’d been seated at the large table with him all stood quickly as well. Dead eyes and hopeless expressions greeted her entrance. It had taken her a week to fly across the Bay of Chaos and track the Ender population down. The high-altitude westward Jetstream sped her trip, but every Raider city she checked, starting at Final Harbor was deserted...
Day 153-158: Though John was unmistakably a prisoner, the Legionnaires never tied or locked him up. They appointed two minders, who rotated every day. This meant he couldn’t make friends, since it was never the same two repeated. But it did mean he could interrogate them, subtly of course. None seemed to be operating under any restrictions on their tongues, so he took full advantage. The unit who captured him occupied a full section of subterranean ‘apartments,’ which emptied out onto the...
Day 179: On the twenty-sixth day that John woke up in chains, he finally followed the formation out into open air. They’d diverted off the Great Road that morning, using a much rougher-hewn ramp to the surface. His head barely cleared the tunnel roof to find a road running straight and true sloping across broken foothills and out into farmland-rich plains. Off in the distance, he could see a wide levee-bordered river formed by the joining of several runoff streams trickling down from the...
Afternoon (Chronological coordinate set undetermined): Welcome back Traveler. You have a total of four previously-encountered portals that you may choose to exit using. This list excludes your Sanctioned portal, and one deemed too hazardous for your use at this time. You have also met the Traveler criteria for any other portals connected with your organization on World number 5. Please indicate which destination you desire. Veronyka sighed in relief. Her entry into the Network via the...
Day 193-200: John had a problem, and Dulgan was its source. Oh, the Dwarf was a fine traveling companion. After departing the camp, the Dwimar led them to a well-concealed entrance back underground. The Obsidian Peaks were honeycombed with passages and caves where far more Clans than John had figured made their homes. They zig-zagged their way between Dvergyr and Dwimar clan areas, never moving in a straight line. At first, Dulgan’s inquisitive nature charmed John while they walked. The...
Day 202: Their second night in the jungle was when things came apart. They’d traveled for two days, turning to head directly into the thickest, wettest, deadliest part after midday that first morning. The trees they walked between emitted a rotting musk, and their boots squelched deep into soft, clinging, stinky mud. Detouring around puddles eventually devolved into slogging across putrid, stagnant ponds. Anything deeper than their knees had to be avoided, and they lost count of how many...
Day 217: John and Dulgan were being followed. They were a day’s walk into the swamp, on a direct line toward the Hidden Ziggurat. Though he’d been occupied at the time, Vorigan sent his retainers to escort the duo back to their drop-off point via his boat. In addition, Jashul and the three Vampyri who comprised Cain’s embassy to the Dwarven clans traveled with them to the same landing spot. The four would cut across the north end of the swamp and enter the Onyxhart gate to begin their...
Day 219: “Head for that one! Run!” John shouted, pointing at the door to their right. The group veered to that side, picking up speed as they moved downhill. Jashul lagged behind the sprinting duo, and John’s longer legs carried him in the lead as they ran. The gap between all three widened as they closed with the two undead bracketing that opening. On the ledges above, the patrols congregated, staying on their level but clustering abreast of the group as the trio neared the ground-level...
Day 225: “That ... you ... you ... how? Goddamit!” John cursed, unable to explain. “Your Task was your own.” The Patriarch admonished. “Not for any other to know. As you have finished the most difficult part, you are eligible for all three rewards. Are you prepared to select them now?” John held up his other hand. “Just a moment.” He turned around and closed his eyes. Don’t kill him. Don’t even attack him. You have no idea what would happen if you did. Let it go. Something even the...
World number 6,626,070,041,034 Day 140: Welcome back Traveler, please note that your Visitor status remains defunct. You and your companion have met the Traveler criteria for World number 6,626,070,041,034. You both will now be transported to that destination. Sygraid’s massive form disappearing from the platform was the only indicator that he’d arrived. He looked around at the uniform, unfathomable darkness for a clue, and noticed that the flames on the portal arch were now a complete...
Day 236: John and Adam brought up the rear of their little procession as they began the second day of their trek into the Endless Sands, the morning after leaving Southern Oasis. Vorigan and Dulgan were in the lead, with the Vamp interrogating the Dwimar about his newfound enchanting abilities, as well as the subject generally. On John’s advice, the day before when purchasing supplies for the trek, they’d gotten several serviceable daggers for each person, which Dulgan agreed to enchant...
Day???: John dug a divot into the sand with his heel, then climbed back up onto the square stone platform. As a test, he walked through the ‘doorway,’ facing away from the Pyramid. Instantly he was turned around, and a glance at the hole in the ground showed he hadn’t moved to another spot. Okay, what do you think? He thought at Duin. And got no response. So he hopped down onto the sand. What do you think I should do? He asked again. Stand on the dust-cloud side of the platform and walk...
Day??? Adam was leaning in the open doorway when John walked up. “You solve it already?” John asked hopefully. Adam snorted. “I wish!” “Oh? What happened?” John wanted to know. Adam’s headshake was rueful. “You were right; it wasn’t that easy. After I pushed the octagon, there was a sound of lots of feet stomping around, and rock grinding like bricks rubbing together. While I was feeling my way over to the last button, I ran into a column that wasn’t there before. It was about a yard and...
Day??? “Well, that was ... interesting.” John said to Adam as he approached from the floor’s entry spot. The SEAL was leaning against the opposite side of the corridor by the now blank door that had borne Dulgan’s name. “Can you ... talk about it?” Adam asked. John shook his head. “I got a headache last time, so let’s go do yours.” “I wonder.” Adam mused. “Do you think all three of the hidden doors are on this level?” “Let’s keep an eye out.” John suggested. Back in the SEAL’s...
Day??? John stepped through the portal and found himself in a place very similar to the Labyrinth entry, where he’d written his name in the sand, and accepted the Rules. Same doorway with walls extending into the distance, like the first and third base lines on a baseball diamond. Unlike the other however, his stone platform this time was only as big as the ones out in the desert, that he’d looped through three times to enter. Beyond its small, square boundary was an endless sea of sand...
Day 251: As Adam and Master Chief Chatman walked out of the planning meeting for Adam’s upcoming trip to the portal stone in South America, Adam signaled the older man with his chin. “Want to grab a quick bite before we split?” He asked, overly casually. “ ... Yes, let’s.” Chatman replied, after figuring out what Adam really wanted. Chatman put the sound dampener between them while they ate. “Is it just me,” Adam inquired, “or is there definitely something going on that I’m not privy...
Day 258/259: John and company were most of the way to the double-peak Ariel indicated as their navigation landmark when a massive wind and rain storm rolled in from the north. Within minutes, visibility in the air dropped to a yard or two, and the gusts were so rough that they decided to land and continue on foot. The group spent that night miserably trying to camp on the best rocky hill they could find. The rain stopped before dawn, but if anything the wind picked up with the sun’s rise....
Day 259/260: “Ho there, we see you!” The voice floated down from the darkness above. The sound carried an echoing quality indicating that the speaker was using a megaphone, or something like it. None of the four were surprised, given how high the walls of Gluboskal were. After separating from the Wardens: Ililyan and Sygraid, plus Rhys the other four companions flew up and around the double-peaked mountain, Gananora Heralis which Dulgan informed them was the backbone of the city’s...
Day 261: Right before the group departed Dadem’s house, Veronyka took a minute to leave Hal a message before bringing up the rear. A very young Dvergyr, Hotric Oakfall worked as the house doorman slash receptionist slash butler. He promised to pass along Veronyka’s words when Hal returned, and to keep an eye out for any unusual interest in their group. That Dulgan and Thedus had a longstanding relationship was apparent to all, as the two chatted continuously during their hike out of the...
Day 261: With herculean effort, John staggered upright, and brushed off the debris coating his arms and helmet. He searched frantically through the too-slowly-dissipating dust cloud for his friends. After tripping twice on the churned-up slope, he stumbled onto both, crumpled into a pile and covered with a thick layer of earth. Heart in his throat, he pulled the pair apart and laid them side by side on a slightly less-torn patch of ground. Uncapping his canteen, he splashed water over...
Day 262/263: “What the hell’s an Arcane Magi?” John wondered. Duin’s unmissable mixture of excitement and trepidation was palpable. “As I said, tha’s tween you’n th’ other one.” Dulgan insisted. “Then why doesn’t he want me to let you leave?” John wondered. Dulgan blinked in surprise. “He doesn’o’? I dunno. Le’s ask.” Repeat my words, so the Magi can hear them as well. Duin instructed. “Before the Arrival, there was a powerful, and secretive organization of Dwarves called the Dark...
Day 263: “See ‘em how?” Dulgan pressed. John’s hands motioned aimlessly. “Like they’re really here. In this room with us right now. There. There, and there.” He pointed. Dulgan walked over to one spot he’d indicated. Vafthundryr shifted, so they wouldn’t ‘collide’. “Here?” The Dwimar asked. “He moved.” John’s finger indicated. Dulgan peered in the direction curiously. “I see nothin’. Wha’ do they loo’ like?” John kept his finger indicating Vafthundryr. “A Frost Giant, Vafthundryr is...
Day 263/264: Mokul kept John awake for several hours as the man from Earth described his adventures. He avoided giving too much detail about Earth and his life before becoming trapped on this world. But otherwise, he saw no reason to lie about anything he’d experienced since coming through the portals. Dulgan knew almost all of it anyway, and John knew all too well how impossible it was for that one to keep a secret. The Dwimar Huntmaster listened intently throughout, though many of his...