Book 3: Chapter 2 - Testament (RAW)

Smooth and powerful are the winds of change brought by the words of prophecy. Cutting through the mountains like a river and as inexorable as the tides.

- On the Prophecy of the Gods, by Gideon de Salavia 376 A.C.

A Power and hunger that knew no bounds burst from me on wings of black lightning. I had become a willing conduit for eldritch forces far beyond mortal ken, my faith was rewarded with a savage display of an elder god’s wrath. Incandescent light, bright enough to banish the darkness, and the cloying stench of ozone filled the air as my magic consumed the Iron Golem with wanton glee. Even at this distance, I could feel the heat as the air around the giant threatened to burst into flames.

For a few moments I was completely hypnotized, the display before me an energetic show of one of the most primal powers of the universe. There was a truth to be found here, if only my soul could grasp it. However, the temperature continued to rise and  fearing for my own safety, I backed off as several metric tonnes of iron bonded with the air itself in a release of white-hot energy.

After what seemed like an eternity, but could have only been mere minutes, a solemn silence filled the underground temple of the Mother of Monsters. A solemn silence, broken only by the cracking sound of stone, and the hiss and crackle of superheated stone. A notification filled my inner vision and soon after a sense of accomplishment filled my heart. Rust, oh elusive rust, you had grown to be more than just a simple curse spell.

You have completed a Divine Ordeal.

You have gained 200 experience.

You have gained 1 Luck.

Then, of all things, I felt cheated. What of the experience for killing the iron giant? Unthinking anger, that dubious friend, perched itself upon my shoulder before the logical part of my mind presented an answer that drove it away. Like the Praxis Guard, the Golem had been a construct, a mere thing without life and soul. This all but proved one of my earlier hypothesis on the variable nature of experience.

Along with the increase to my Luck attribute, the spell had given me the brief joy of utterly trivializing what should have been an epic struggle. But what truly gave me savage delight was the look of perplexity on Iasis’ face. An expression that I would keep as a private treasure, only to look upon and sample when the fancy took me. Inviolate and mine. Mine and mine alone. But too soon did it fade like the mist at morning, to be replaced by a stony countenance. The gods of this world were not perfect, they were flawed. Nothing more than children granted power that should have never been theirs.

“What manner of pyromancer are you? To overcome such a mighty servant of an old creation with such ease? Only a mortal whose Ma’at is near the end of their path could command such puissant fire, yet I sense that you do not seek the frenzy hidden within the flames…” asked the goddess of me, unable to hide the growing incredulity in her voice.

Indeed, the gods of this world, at least this one, were not omniscient. A far cry from the perfection espoused in the books of modern misguided religious practice. And if they were flawed, they were unworthy of reverence and their flaws could be manipulated. They could be bargained with. It was worth a try.

“I will answer, if you will first answer a question of my own,” I returned, hoping that voice sounded steady and sure. Iasis arched an eyebrow in mock amusement before nodding her assent with a royal’s authority. My next question surprised even me, but it felt like the right thing to ask at the time.

“What of my companions, those who were near me when I was attacked by that worm of the desert, are they alive and well?” I questioned of the dark Divine.

Floating sinuously through the air, she completed a loop around me, her eyes roved over me as if inspecting for any hidden mystery before she replied, “Of all the questions you would ask of a Divine, you would first seek to merely assuage your worry of your companions? I had expected something of along the lines of how to achieve greater heights of power, or the secret to immortality. How terribly virtuous of you… and such a banal question too. Refreshingly so.”

“We are more than just selfish desire,” I snapped, the vehemence in my voice shocking even me.

“As expected of a servant of my sister, so sure in your own self-righteousness. It will only make marking you as one of my own even more satisfying. Very well!” she clapped her hands together in false delight before finally answering my question, “Let it be known that Iasis is generous with her grace. They live, for now. Brought into the deep desert by the Guardian, they clung to its hide like parasites. They travel towards this place even now, though how they yet still cling to life is a mystery even to me. Ever has your kind has been one of my more tenacious creations.”

Relief flooded me and I uttered my gratitude, “You have my thanks.” My friends were safe, and I had not failed in my current quest.

“Be that as it may. You have yet to complete and pass my Test,” she breathed huskily, and I felt myself drawn by her intoxicating influence. “I must choose a suitable opponent for a powerful mortal such as you. Something… something poetic,” she drawled, running a finger across before playfully tapping my nose.

My sword did not strike a futile blow against that which it could not touch, nor did my teeth gnash against themselves in frustration, for I had long gone past the point where such petty provocation would get a rise from me. Still, my free hand formed an iron fist and I found myself gripping my trusty weapon tighter. I would succeed at this Test, and come out only stronger.

“Yes, I have just the thing! Your final trial and a suitable reward should you overcome it. I am most generous, am I not?” she intoned in a command that demanded worship.

It was a powerful thing, the influence of god, a mesh of soft womanly wiles and the hard steel of irresistible command that threaded through her voice. I felt myself start to give voice to a word of praise and thanks but stopped myself. Stubborn pride would not allow me to do so. In the comparison to the patron of my dark otherworldly powers, hers was but a pale shadow.

“You do me proud. I see that you are made of sterner stuff. This will be the last Test. Come prove to me your worth,” she exclaimed, an echo to her voice that reverberated with heavy portent.

From the last statue, an amorphous blob formed out of the living stone. It shrunk in size, condensing, turning liquid and taking on the texture of mud or earth. Like clay. From this ball grew four limbs and a head, a vague approximation of a humanoid form. As it slowly took on more detail, I could see that it was a thing of clay being molded into a man.

I yearned to strike this thing down as it was being created, before it could be completed, but something held me back. It would wrong to strike down an unborn child. It would be perverse. It would be unjust.

These thoughts, however, were not my own and the choir of voices within clamored in protestation. A suggestion snuck through the alien thoughts to the front of my mind, an image of the raw stuff of Entropy. Holy Aura would not serve me well here. The next opponent would require something darker, something more powerful, to overcome it.

The auric light faded slowly, and with it my primary source of illumination. The orange red glow of Golem’s body was all that was left, and even that had begun to slowly fade as my Rust spell continued to consume the remains. Divine purpose and sense of righteousness was replaced with something more familiar. Entropic Aura pulsed from me and I felt a serenity, an acceptance of my place in all existence. Though I was finite and had an end, I was also the end. A duality of purpose and place that gave me grim satisfaction.

Finally, I was able to break from my fugue of inaction and false sense of fairness. Closing the distance between us with the Dash skill, I raised a blow fueled with the strength of Power Strike at what I thought was the clay figure. My weapon was parried by another blade, the first note of steel meeting steel ringing in the air. Even in the questionable light, I could see that it was a sword identical to my own.

I took a step back to gaze upon the figure that had been born from the clay or living stone. It looked back at me through a visored helm, fashioned in the same style as my own, with cold disdain. It was a thing clad heavy steel, shadow, and dark ambition. In time to the waves of my own Entropic Aura, it emitted identical grey waves of its own that brushed and flowed against mine.

For a second, it looked down at what was left of the golem and drew inspiration from it. The thing had been born but a few seconds ago, I could sense that it was learning. Wary, I kept my distance, which proved almost to be my undoing. Black lightning flowed from, intertwining with the pulses of our Entropy as they latched onto my armor.

Gritting my teeth, I expected a world of pain, girding myself to launch a last suicidal spiteful attack even as I cooked within my armor. But there was nothing. No heat overcame me, turning me into a blazing conflagration of metal. Finding no purchase, the black lightning wove and coursed futilely about my person. Stupidly, the thing cast Rust on me again, to no effect.

I laughed in unrestrained glee at the imposter’s brazen display of foolishness. It had even inherited my habit of making the same mistake twice. I understood now why the voices had prophetically advised me so, my Entropic Aura had been the shield that had nullified the thing’s power. I knew it to be so. Before it could cast another spell, I entered into measure and met it blade to blade in a clash of sparks. Our Strength was of an equal match.

It was in a way a compliment, I thought somewhere in the back of my mind. Of all the mighty monsters that Iasis could have chosen for her final Test, she had chosen that I fight a homunculus of myself. A reflection and testament of my own might.