Unbound

Felix trudged through the snow, clawed feet now covered by his boots and greaves, not in a particular hurry to get back to his Stronghold. Zara had asked to meet with him that morning—again—and he’d put her off for the last few hours. A few more minutes wouldn’t matter.

He stomped toward a certain tree, eager to get out of the snow, but not before retrieving his weaponry. Inside the hollow trunk, he pulled free a crooked bronze sword and a wide-bladed dagger of the same metal. Inheritor’s Will and Skyslain’s Riposte. They were unassuming weapons, but both were formidable for different reasons, and were an essential part of his combat kit. He was only missing the oversized Blade of the Fang, which was currently stowed away in Pit’s barding. He placed both weapons against his belt and pushed Mana into his Garment, forcing it to forge leather sheaths for them both.

Much better. Now, to get those cores. He looked askance at the heavy accumulation of snow further ahead. It was quite deep there, rising as high as mid-thigh in places, and Felix had no desire to wade through it all. Instead, he conjured Cloudsteps beneath his feet with every step, tiny platforms of solidified Mana that hovered an inch above the snow like an elevated pathway. Like many things he’d incorporated these past few months, it combined convenience with an opportunity to train himself—he could have chosen to use Rime Shaping, but Cloudstep needed more practice. It also meant he made remarkably little noise as he moved, a detail that wasn’t appreciated by the Legionnaires nearby.

“Lord Autarch!”

Three trainees stumbled to their feet, taken aback by Felix’s silent approach. Bundled in heavy blue cloaks, they seemed entirely unsure whether to stand at attention, salute, or bow so they attempted all three at once, tangling their winter gear in the process. It was almost comical, but Felix made sure to keep his expression neutral as he rounded the corner of their small dugout. A tiny fire had been stoked against the cold, off center from three smooth, glowing orbs that sat at the back of the crude dirt windbreak. Felix gestured to the orbs. “How are the cores?”

“Ah, my Lord, they are in good condition and are, ah, glowing very nicely,” said one. Lamden, Felix recalled. “The sigaldry snuffed out a short while ago, but until then they were pulsing at regular intervals. Just as you said they should.”

“Excellent.” Felix stepped over, dismissing his Cloudsteps and scooped up each core. They were Domain Cores, recovered from within the Foglands, and he’d stuck them on the far end of his training array. All that siphoned Health, Stamina, and Mana had to go somewhere, after all. “Yeah. They’re just about halfway full. That’ll be useful.”

“My Lord, if you don’t mind me asking, what are these for?” Lamden asked.

“Hm?” Felix looked up from the cores, having hefted them up to his eyes. “Oh they’re just batteries. Gonna use them for sigaldry research.”

“Ah. Of course, my Lord.” Lamden nodded, clearly not understanding what Felix was talking about. “Do you need us further?”

“Nah. Go help Beefhammer with the Claw members, please.”

“At once, my Lord.” Lamden saluted, followed shortly by the other two, and with a sharp gesture they trotted off into the snowy forest.

Felix tucked the Domain Cores into his satchel, not being particularly careful with them. They were sturdy things, requiring a good portion of his considerable Strength to damage. That feature plus their ability to absorb and store energy made them extremely useful for enchantments of the more experimental kind. Much like simple monster cores, Domain Cores were filled with large amounts of Mana and Essence originally, only on a far greater scale. Given that they had to provide an entire Domain with power, that made sense. Removing them from a Domain meant the entire place fell apart—despite the potential for training in Domains, they were also a threat. The three he’d taken these from had been on the verge of breaking through the liminal space that safeguarded all such places. Taking their cores had been necessary to keep his people safe.

Their original stores had been drained already, using the Mana to power Alister’s second generation of siege weaponry, but the man’s experiments required a great deal of resources. The wood and stone alone kept them on the hunt for high Tier materials. Utilizing his siphon array to drain his Health, Stamina, and Mana and then store them all had been Karys’ idea, though Felix had been the one to work out most of the sigaldry. The Mana vessel had been simplest—Mana was pure, and everything was made up of it at some level. Health and Stamina, however, were derived from Essence and Mana.

That had blown his mind.

Felix had long ago learned everything was vibrations on the Continent. In the whole universe, he supposed. Patterns of sound, each unique and layered atop one another. The Grand Harmony. Among Chanters—Sorcerers, as they were often called—it was common knowledge that all of those patterns became Mana, and Mana composed all. But they were missing a piece of the puzzle, or the information related to Felix had been incomplete, at least. It was Mana and Essence that made up all things, with some sort of confluence between the two filling in the gaps.

That meant, according to Karys, that the Health represented his lifeforce and the Stamina that fueled his every movement was composed of Mana and Essence in various degrees. It was more than a little confusing, but despite the ancient Paragon’s patchy memories, he assured Felix that everything was a matter of frequencies and concentrations.

Felix hefted one of the Domain Cores, staring into its partially faceted surface. Within, colors swirled in kaleidoscopic patterns that he knew to be Stamina, somehow. If it’s all just Essence and Mana, then that explains why monster cores can fuel enchantments that normally require a steady stream of Mana. He tossed the core up, catching it in his large, clawed hands. Cool.

Cloudstep!

Felix ascended into the naked canopy, like mounting a staircase, until he stood above all but the true giants of the forest. The terrain in the Foglands looked almost alien in the heart of winter, but it was not any less beautiful. To the west was the River Eile, too wide and strong to freeze over even as the temperature dropped hard, and filled with fish and monsters that provided a great deal of food to his growing settlement. To the east were the Teeth, a range of mountains that separated the Foglands—Nagast—into fairly discrete sections of forests, cliffs, and lush meadows. Far less lush now, as bare branches and rolling hills dominated every direction, including the north where the land eventually opened up into the icy Hoarfrost. Home of the Risi and apparently a blasted wasteland of ice and snow. He’d had to build a wall there too, though there was little chance of invasion from that direction.

Finally, to the south, his Stronghold dominated.

I suppose I should call it by its name now, he mused, still regarding the distant darkness to the south. It appeared almost like a cloud from so far away, but its true nature was impossible to hide. The Atlantes Anima, his Spirit Tree, was over a thousand feet tall and twice that in canopy width. It loomed above his Stronghold like a guardian, casting a shadow visible even in the waning light of the watery winter sun. At its base, the River Eile coiled, surrounded by the blue-black walls of a fortress, before careening off the edge in a waterfall so large it was easily visible from several miles away. Clinging to the cliff and the surrounding area, more blue-black fortifications stood out against the gray stone and white snow, and multicolored lights pulsing slowly from atop squared watchtowers.

A Nymean Temple was housed within that cliff, the core of Felix’s Stronghold, and bearing more secrets than anyone realized. The Atlantes Anima, grown from the corpse of an enemy and bound to Felix’s Authority, had extended its roots far beneath the Temple—so deep, in fact, that it had brought back mysteries. Where its furthest roots cracked the stone, they had found a small, half-collapsed room bearing only an ornate lintel above an empty wall. It was written in some illegible Nymean dialect, but Karys had been able to translate it easily. After some thought and his Tree’s insistence, Felix had agreed the word had promise.

Elderthrone.

It certainly was a bold name. Felix hadn’t been entirely comfortable choosing it—he certainly didn’t have a throne—but his concerns had been mollified by Karys. “Perhaps it was once this Temple’s name. Or something older, upon which this Temple was built. We Nym were not the first upon the Continent’s soil.” Karys’ words echoed in Felix’s perfect memory, repeated with flawless fidelity as if the giant metal man were standing next to him.

“At least everyone else seems to like it,” Felix muttered to himself. The word had been on everyone’s lips within the hour. He’d even spotted it carved into the shops and signs around town as the people embraced the name. It was better than the alternative that some had proposed. Fiendtown would have been way worse.

He kept casting Cloudsteps as he walked toward his home. He wasn’t in a particular hurry, though his meeting with Zara loomed ever closer. He’d put her off more than once during his duties this past week, and—if Felix were being honest—for far longer than that. Months ago she’d hinted at a gathering, a sit down chat about things Felix was not ready to engage with; he knew that once he sat down with her, he’d have to put up with Isla, as well as…others.

Isla had been particularly nosy since he’d requested her to look over Pit and his cursed injuries. She could see the Curse of Flame on him—could even trace its influence over Pit’s back—but the roots of the curse went deep. So deep, in fact, that they clung to Pit’s core space. According to her expert opinion as one of the leading Master Tier healers, there was no way she or anyone else could remove the Curse of Flame without destroying Pit’s core space…and potentially his core too.

Unacceptable, he reiterated to himself. We just need a new angle.

Felix pulled his sheepskin coat higher around his neck as a biting wind stung his cheeks. The temperature wasn’t uncomfortable, but his reactions to inclement weather were ingrained in him; he’d been raised in Florida, and anything below sixty degrees was cold. Just like the moment when Harn cut me. It didn’t hurt, but it was a distraction. He bit his lip. How do I fix that?

Training. That was the only answer. He needed to fight under the suppression array more often, as he’d come to call it. Felix wasn’t talented at combat, but he was tenacious—he’d practice until he could ignore it all.

Status.

Name: Felix Nevarre

Level: 62

Race: Primordial of the Unseen Tide (Greater)*

Omen: Magician

Path: Cardinal Fiend

Born Trait: Keen Mind

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Health: 13035/13035

Stamina: 12072/12072

Mana: 10028/10028

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STR: 3204

PER: 2825

VIT: 2577

END: 2100

INT: 2875

WIL: 3745

AGL: 2466

DEX: 2497

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BODY - Chthonic Ascent (Adept)

Resistances: The Song of Absolution (L), Level 94

Combat Skills: Dodge (C), Level 82; Heavy Armor Mastery (C), Level 15; Blind Fighting (R), Level 78; Wild Threnody (E), Level 85; Hand of Calamity (L), Level 62

Physical Enhancements: Armored Skin (R), Level 88; Relentless Resolution (L), Level 95

MIND - Fiendforged (Adept)

Mental Enhancements: Deception (C), Level 45; Meditation (U), Level 79; Negotiation (U), Level 50; Bastion of Will (E), Level 99; Deep Mind (E), Level 80; Manifestation of the Coronach (E), Level 80; Chthonic Tribute (L), Level 97

Information Skills: Alchemy (C), Level 72; Tracking (C), Level 44; Exploration (U), Level 70; Ephemeral Evocation (E), Level 24; Voracious Eye (E), Level 90; Aria of the Green Wilds (L), Level 88

SPIRIT - Eldercrowned (Adept)

Spiritual Enhancements: Dual Casting (U), Level 78; Manasight (U), Level 79; Manaship Pilot (R), Level 35; Etheric Concordance (L), Level 84; Last Cry Of The Chthonic Host (M), Level 5; Sovereign of Flesh (T), Level 95; Unite the Lost (T), Level 51; Fiendforge (Un), Level 68

Spells: Abyssal Skein (R), Level 77; Cloudstep (R), Level 74; Green Shaping (R), level 83; Illusory Double (R), Level 45; Invocation (R), Level 77; Shadow Whip (R), Level 64; Stone Shaping (R), Level 85; Sunken Ward (R), Level 65; Rime Shaping (R), Level 76; Auroral Forge (E), Level 75; Mantle of the Infinite Revolution (E), Level 74; Arrow of Perdition (L), Level 52; Cardinal Flame (L), Level 93; Rain of Cataclysm (L), Level 76; Skein of Fate (L), Level 63; Theurgist of the Rise (L), Level 92; Adamant Discord (T), Level 91

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Unused Stat Points: 0

Harmonic Stats

Resonance (RES): 1446

Intent (INE): 2443

Affinity (AFI): 2980

Resilience (REI): 1452

Evasion (EVA): 1542

Might (MIG): 1522

Alacrity (ALA): 1962

Felicity (FEL): 2770

His level hadn’t budged since the battle against the High Guard, but that didn’t stop his progress over the course of three months. Felix had pushed himself, lifting nearly every one of his Skills above Apprentice Tier, and several had passed onto Journeyman or even Adept. The stat rewards from Tiering up had boosted his already enormous reserve of power—another reason for him to perfect his suppression array. Training against people that he outclassed by several thousand stat points made things rather pointless. It was also why he had tested himself against a number of the Domains in the Foglands.

Some Skills, like Hand of Calamity, Arrow of Perdition, or Rain of Cataclysm were impossible to train without hurting someone. It turned out the Foglands had a number of Domains that needed clearing, hence the three Domain Cores in his pack, and Felix had been more than happy to test himself against their denizens. Sadly, his inner council hadn’t allowed him to dominate all of the monsters and Felix had to admit that was the wiser choice—letting the various Talons fight against enemies in a relatively controlled environment was invaluable training.

He’d taken on the Domain boss himself though. Of the three he’d fully cleared, all of them had put up something of a fight, enough for Felix to stretch his abilities—at least a little.

All in all, the months since Haarwatch had been fruitful. What had stymied him, however, were the Skills that had pushed well into the eighties, or worse, the ones that had crossed over into the nineties. Bastion of Will was now his highest leveled Skill, at 99, and try as he might Felix was unable to make a dent toward that final level.

One more level, and I’ll have a Master Tier Skill. Felix scratched his jaw as he stood above the trees, the glowing, blue-white platform humming beneath him. Once all nine of his Tempered Skills reached level 100, Felix would be among the rare few Master Tiers on the Continent. It blew his mind a little. He certainly didn’t feel like a master of anything.

Felix came to a stop, metal boots crackling atop the hardened Mana beneath him. He had been ignoring his core space in order to let Pit rest, but after his battle against the others, he should check on them. The arrangement was new, after all.

Zara can wait a bit longer.

Firming his Will and the Cloudstep beneath him, Felix closed his eyes and fell. Not into the naked forest below, but into the preternatural darkness that lurked inside of his chest.

It swallowed him whole.