Illusions and Confusion

“I think we should give up on The Tomb.”

Dorak spoke those words, but his mind was elsewhere when he did so. Dorak was stuck reliving a memory of twenty years prior. The way he did so was different than how the others had relived a memory in their dreams the night before. Dorak was living thirty seconds over and over again.

“Master Bluescale, are you okay?”

Dorak opened the door to his childhood mentor’s room at the Dao Shu Monastery.

Dorak stepped into a puddle of semi-coagulated blood.

Dorak stared at the lifeless, mangled corpse of the man who taught him for the entirety of his fifteen-year-long life.

Dorak noticed the sound of panicked breathing coming from above him.

Dorak looked up to the rafters to find the man that he had let into the monastery only a few hours prior because he wanted to train with him.

Dorak grabbed the emblem that gently floated down into his hand.

Dorak recognized it to be the symbol of the Azuma Dynasty, the opposing force to the Akh-Shao Empire.

Dorak learned that the man was an assassin sent to kill his mentor.

“Master Bluescale, are you okay?”

He opened the door. He stepped into blood. He stared at the corpse. He noticed a sound. He looked up to the rafters. He grabbed the falling emblem. He recognized the symbol. He learned the facts.

“Master Bluescale, are you okay?”

He opened. He stepped. He stared. He noticed. He looked. He grabbed. He recognized. He learned.

“Master Bluescale, are you okay?”

Dorak had smashed the Obsidian Pillar with a single punch.

Dorak had listened to Isha scream out for Asyr when she fell to the ground.

Dorak had turned around to find the broken and battered bodies of Hal and Asyr.

Dorak had realized that he could have saved them from falling to the ground.

Dorak had watched Isha’s crying face as she told him to help her heal the injuries.

Dorak had inched forward to follow Isha’s commands and remove Hal’s armor.

Dorak had stopped when he saw Isha using a shard of the Pillar to splint Asyr’s leg.

Dorak had relearned that his decision to fight the Pillar instead of save Hal and Asyr led to these injuries.

“Master Bluescale, are you okay?”

He smashed the Pillar. He listened to the scream. He turned around. He realized he could have saved them. He watched Isha’s face. He inched forward. He stopped. He relearned his mistake.

“Master Bluescale, are you okay?”

He smashed. He listened. He turned. He realized. He watched. He inched. He stopped. He relearned.

“I think we should give up on The Tomb.”

He opened. He stepped. He stared. He noticed. He looked. He grabbed. He recognized. He learned.

“What are you talking about, Dorak?” asked Hal from across the room.

He smashed. He listened. He turned. He realized. He watched. He inched. He stopped. He relearned.

“I’m going on to the next floor. If I’m going alone, then it is what it is.” Asyr spoke to the room, rather than her party members.

He opened. He stepped. He stared. He noticed. He looked. He grabbed. He recognized. He learned.

Then, he spoke. “Have you ever killed someone?”

“I killed my father,” replied Hal.

“I’ve killed bandits and thieves,” added Asyr, still not looking at anyone.

“I haven’t,” finished Isha, before adding, “so what’s your point?”

“Have you ever let someone die when you could have stopped it?”

The others didn’t respond. Dorak took that as a no.

“I’m not good at working with others. I wasn’t as a kid at the monastery. I wasn’t as a prizefighter. I’m still not good at it. The only thing I know how to do is work alone. I fight alone. I scout alone. I infiltrate alone. The reason I’m not alone now is because working alone is lonely. I don’t know how to work with others, so I let people die. In my past jobs, that was fine. I never needed to care about the others I was working with. Now…”

Dorak didn’t need to finish that sentence to get its meaning across.

“I was the one who told you to destroy the Pillar,” explained Isha, trying to take the blame onto herself. “It’s my fault. You listened to my plan because I told you to rely on myself and Hal and Asyr for plans. I was able to heal them, so don’t put any blame on yourself.”

“You also told me to not take stupid risks. I don’t want to lose the things that matter.”

“Dorak, this isn’t something that we planned for, so we went in and messed up. We always have next time. We can make a plan, do it right, and get the job done.” Hal had put a hand on Dorak’s left shoulder. Where there had once been an arm, there was only a slightly healed stump.

Dorak looked down at the stump before muttering, “That’s fine in here, but that won’t matter outside. We can’t rewind time out there. You have to do your job right every time.”

Hal and Isha were both silent, but Asyr’s voice came from the other side of the room, near the door to the next floor. “We don’t have time for this right now. We have less than half an hour left. I don’t want to waste any more time here.” Dorak tried to speak up, but Asyr stopped him. “We can argue and complain later. We’re onto the third floor now.”

With that, Asyr began walking away. After a moment, Hal was the first to follow her. Isha stayed for a moment to let Dorak go first, but he turned around as if to ask her something, but thought better of it and started walking. With that, Isha followed along to the third floor.

=======================================

The passage to the third floor was the same as the other two before it, but this one had a strange smell that only Dorak noticed. As if coming from deeper below, there was a scent of decay that would be normal in a regular mausoleum, but was strangely novel in this place where death was impossible.

The first to enter the third floor chamber was Asyr, quickly followed by Hal. The chamber was much different than the ones before. The room did not have the eight pillars that the first room had, nor did it have the many tiles that the second room had. This room was empty. Now that Asyr was used to seeing the small hole in the floor that both of the prior rooms had, she was able to find that the floor had a similar hole just upon entering the large room. She still didn’t know what its purpose was, but she took a mental note of it.

Across the room, after stepping over the entrance to the large chamber, Asyr could see that the door to the next floor opened immediately. Hal tapped on her shoulder and pointed at the door. She nodded and the two began making their way over to it. Just as she started walking that way, she felt a slight bit of dizziness and confusion. She stopped herself as Hal turned back to her.

“What’s wrong, Asyr?”

“I’m not sure, but isn’t this too easy?”

Hal stopped moving.

“Hal?”

“I’m sorry, Test 478, but Hal isn’t here anymore.” In a shower of blue arcane sparks, the illusion that covered Archmage Aether Illibraut vanished, leaving his old elven form apparent. “I have come to reclaim my stolen experiment.” The archmage held a tall crystal staff aloft and began to chant a spell.

“I’m not going to let you take me back!” Asyr pulled out her spellbook and began to cast her own spell.

As the two chants finished, the crystal staff emitted shards of blue light that began to draw a complex magic circle. Asyr could understand what the circle’s purpose was immediately. It was a summoning circle used to summon and bind a powerful demon. She had seen plenty of those across the months she spent in the archmage’s tower. But, unlike that time before, Asyr was ready now. Her plan was perfect.

=======================================

In the hallway just before the third room, Hal had watched Asyr run inside the chamber just before the torches in the room went red. Dorak and Isha caught up to Hal as he turned to the two and pointed up toward the ceiling of the large room.

“The monster appeared right when Asyr stepped foot in the room. Then, she started talking to no one.”

At the ceiling of the room there was a ghostly figure. It appeared to be a humanoid woman with long, flowing hair. Her figure was pale and lithe and her movements were soft and fluid. She appeared to simply be floating in the air, but upon a closer examination, her form was more than just ghostly and pale, she was translucent. From outside the room, she couldn’t be heard, but she appeared to be singing.

“I’ve read stories about monsters like this. Certain seafolk are even descended from them. I think this is a siren, so as long as we can’t hear her song, we should be safe,” Hal continued explaining.

=======================================

The archmage cast his summoning spell, but Asyr sliced her finger along one of the pages of her spellbook. She flung the blood that dripped from the wound toward the magic circle as she spoke the word, “Prohibere!” The magic circle melted where the blood touched it.

The archmage clicked his tongue at the demonic magic, but kept a slight smirk on his face. “Oh, you are quite the near-perfect creation. I don’t want to break you.”

Asyr then finished casting the spell that she had started chanting. A number of smaller magic circles had appeared at her feet as a group of five lesser imps like Ulyx were summoned. The imps flew at the archmage and tried to pin his limbs, but they were simply too small, so the archmage batted them away with his staff.

“You can even use arcane summoning? My skill with magical creatures knows no bound!”

The archmage began to chant a different spell this time as Asyr rushed into close combat. She wasn’t interested in having a simple mage’s duel. This was going to be more than that. She drew the simple dagger she kept on her belt and went to strike.

=======================================

“Here’s my idea,” started Hal as Isha and Dorak listened in. “We should try and get Asyr out of there. Someone should go in, grab her, and run to the exit.”

As the three were planning, Asyr was casting spells and wasting her energy fighting against something that wasn’t there. Meanwhile, the ghostly siren was simply floating and singing a song that no one could hear from outside the room.

Isha looked up at the siren and asked, “Why can’t you just attack the siren from here?”

Dorak derisively chuckled, “The thing’s a bit out of my range.”

Hal sheepishly looked at his glaive. “The same goes for me. Asyr and you are the only ones who can attack from that distance with your spells.”

Isha rubbed her temples, trying to clear her mind. “I’ve already called upon a major miracle since the last time I went to the temple. I could try asking for another, but it might not work. Most I could do without question is pray for a bolt of lightning or a small tornado.” Dorak seemed confused about how her spells worked, so Isha simply waved him off, saying, “I can explain it when we have time.”

“Okay. What do we think the siren is doing to Asyr and how do we prevent it from happening to us?” Hal asked this as he tried to gauge the distance between himself and their other party member.

“Well, if this is truly a siren, as you believe it to be, then it would be sound that causes the confusion. If you can’t hear the siren’s song, then it can’t affect you,” Isha calmly explained. “Cover your ears with your heavy scarf and grab Asyr.”

Hal began to unwrap his scarf from his neck. It was a thick woolen scarf meant to protect his neck from attacks, so it would also be perfect for drowning out sound. He took off the scarf and began wrapping it around Dorak’s head and ears.

“Wait, we were talking about me?” the confused Dorak asked.

“You’re the fastest one here. You need to go in, grab her, and run to the other side,” explained Hal.

“Then, when she’s returned to her senses, have her cast a spell at the siren. Once it is gone, we can continue on,” continued Isha.

Dorak stood in front of the room where the siren sang. His head was wrapped in the scarf now. He stood there, head tilted to the side, ears covered and a dumbfounded look on his face. Isha rubbed her temples once more, this time from frustration, rather than stress. She pointed at Dorak, pointed at Asyr, made a grabbing motion, and then pointed to the other hallway across the room.

Dorak nodded with conviction and stepped into the siren’s song.

“At least we know the scarf worked,” joked Hal.

=======================================

Asyr grabbed the staff out of the archmage’s hands, tossing it to the side as held her dagger aloft. She straddled the wiry body of the old elven man, pinning his arms with her knees. Without his staff, he couldn’t cast spells as easily. Without his hands free, he couldn’t perform the more complex gestures needed for some spells. Finally, Asyr brought the dagger down onto the exposed neck of the archmage.

The dagger pierced flesh, leading to a spurt of blood, but she purposefully missed the important arteries, instead targeting his vocal cords. His breathing became ragged and shallow as she had pierced his windpipe, as well. He tried to speak, but was unable to do so, coughing up blood as he failed. Instead, he spent all of his final energy on simply laughing. Blood bubbled into his mouth as he did so, leaving him drowning in his own life essence, but he did not care. His life was already forfeit. His final action he took was yelling out a single word, causing a final spurt and splatter of blood as he did so, shouting: “COLAVITO!”

Asyr turned around to see a massive figure with deep crimson skin, jet black eyes, four muscular arms, and bull horns running straight at her. The demon prince who had turned her into the half-demon she was now had just entered the room from the shadowy hallway that Asyr had gone through not long before. As she went to stand, she could see that she wouldn’t have time to dodge out of the way, so she prepared to fight back.

Asyr could use three sources of magic. She could use the arcane magic that was taught in schools that relied upon heavy research, knowledge of magical formulas, and used the magic in the world around the caster to power it. This magic was fairly simple to use and didn’t take as much magical energy from the caster, but without the proper knowledge of a spell, it would fail to produce any result. Next, she could also use innate magic which relied upon the magic that exists within various magical creatures to power its spells. Asyr was already considered a magical creature due to her celestial heritage, but was made into a different magical creature when her blood was mixed with the blood of a demon prince. Because of that experiment, her humanity was removed from her blood, leaving only the constantly fighting blood of angels and demons within her.

She was able to call upon demonic magic by releasing some of her blood. This allowed her to use both blood magic and powerful charm spells. Blood magic could do nearly anything, like all innate magic, but required many heavy prerequisites to do anything powerful, so she mainly used it to cast simple dark and death elemental spells that she didn’t have the formulas for. Innate spells also allow the caster to cast spells without chanting, instead requiring a specific activation condition. Her demonic spells required her to shed blood as their activation condition.

Her other innate spellcasting came from her celestial heritage. This allowed her to cast basic light and life elemental spells, which she mainly used to heal herself when she needed to cast her demonic spells or to light up rooms. However, the more powerful type of magic that her celestial heritage granted to her was divine magic. Divine magic academically referred to any type of magic gifted by the gods, but it mainly comprised of two types: protection magic and transformation magic.

“HALT!” Asyr spoke the celestial spell and cast a shield of golden sparks in front of her, stopping Colavito’s advance a step away from reaching her. As she had done so, her eyes glowed with a pure golden light, the angelic symbol on her forehead glowed brightly, and the blood within her burning against its demonic foe and counterpart that also flowed within her veins. The spell was one that stopped a foe as soon as they tried to touch you. Until the spell faded, the target would be unable to move, leaving Colavito unable to defend himself from the oncoming attack.

“CEASE!” Asyr spoke a different celestial spell as she touched her hand to Colavito’s lowered forehead. With another pulse of golden light and burning pain within her, a golden sword lowered from the air above Colavito. Its movement was slow, but the Halt spell would prevent Colavito from being able to avoid its advance.

The final thing that Asyr did before her judgement would reach Colavito was grab the bull horns protruding from the sides of his head, turn his face to meet her gaze, and speak a single word.

“Exashine.” The third level of the light elemental spell. The first level, Shine, created an orb of radiance that burned like the sun. It was very effective against unholy creatures, but most humanoids would only be left with a mild sunburn, at worst. The second level, Arcshine, created a larger version of that orb of radiance which would burn all unholy creatures within 25 feet of the target, but would only leave humanoids with painful burns and blisters.

The judgement from the golden sword landed down upon Colavito, piercing through his downturned head without so much as an entry wound, before shattering into golden shards that cut his body from the inside out. Then, the spell, Exashine, was cast. The room was filled with brilliant golden light. Asyr’s celestial heritage protected her from harm, but she watched as the demon prince’s flesh burned and bubbled under the extreme radiance. Eight orbs of radiance danced and spun around Asyr like planets in the night sky turning around the world. As they passed through Colavito’s form, his skin began to smoke and char where they entered. As the orbs completed their eighth rotation, they burst out, filling the room with burning radiance.

The lights of the room faded from the red shade of battle to the normal color of torchlight. Asyr looked at the hallway that she had entered from to see the shocked and dismayed faces of Hal and Isha, slightly burned from the spell she had just cast. Asyr felt a goopy rain of ectoplasm land down on her. She looked up to see the burning and melting form of a ghostly siren. As she looked at her arms and body covered in ectoplasm, she could see another burning form in front of her.

The scales on Dorak’s legs, arms, and head were discolored, leaving them white and translucent, while the monk’s clothing he wore was burned in the torso, the scarf wrapped around his head was a smoking pile of ash, and the scales and flesh beneath his clothes were charred and smoking. His body was covered in various cuts from the spell of judgement and his eyes were lifeless long before the Exashine spell had finished.

“I- I didn’t- I thought-”

Asyr’s words came between shaky breaths of panic and moments of lucid fear. She could only look at her hands with dismay. Hands that had killed her tormentors, but slaughtered Dorak. She could feel the bull’s horns that belonged to Colavito. The ridges and roughness of them were entirely real to her, but the demon prince was never even there. She could feel the black robe and skinny arms of the archmage as she pinned him to the ground to take her revenge, but there was no body, no blood, and no proof that was ever real.

Hal was simply standing there in the hallway. He had watched Dorak run into the room. Asyr had turned around with a difficult look on her face, then began to glow with the golden light that he often saw when Isha cast her healing spells. Dorak became unable to move. He tried shouting to Asyr, but she couldn’t hear him. He had tried to grab her, but nothing would have worked if Asyr could completely stop him in his tracks with a single word. Every spell that Asyr had cast when she was glowing like that was powerful enough to kill anyone in their party. Halt would have allowed her to stab them in the neck with her dagger. Cease would have destroyed them from the inside out. Exashine would have burned any of them to death without fail. Even Exaflare, which Asyr used to destroy the Ice Hawk, would have turned the entire party to smoke and ash. The only thing that gave Hal some solace was knowing that Asyr was undeniably his ally, but he also knew that her magic was far too powerful to be left unchecked. He hated feeling like he couldn’t trust his ally, but nothing that passed through his mind could shake the image of Dorak’s scales scorching and flesh charring.

There was a hissing laugh in his mind. “What a deliciousss sssmell of dessspair. I thank you for thisss wonderful meal. Your pitiful hope wasss but an appetizer, ssso I will look forward to your future in hungry delight.” As the hissing laughter continued, Hal was frozen in place by the knowledge that he actually had been hopeful. For the first time in years, he had felt some crumb of hope within his heart. He was hopeful that he actually could be a hero, that he actually could create a legacy that outshined his father’s. He was hopeful that he could conquer this Tomb with his allies. Now, he had nothing left but the knowledge that his hope would never turn into meaningful change. He would never be able to achieve anything while this Devourer of Hope held control over the only power that Hal had.

Extol, his glaive, was incredibly sharp, able to cut through flesh, bone, and armor without much difficulty. As a magical weapon, it was nearly impossible to break and required little maintenance. The only things that could break it were even more powerful magical weapons or incredibly powerful spells. Trius, his shield, was incredibly tough, though most of that came from the fact that it was magical. As a magical item, it too was nearly impossible to break. As a shield, this meant that it could stop most any attack and never suffer the smallest scratch. Without these two items, Hal had nothing. He was never good enough with any weapon to be considered a true master. He was never good enough with a shield to be reliable on the front lines. It was his weapon that was a mastercraft; his shield, reliable. Hal couldn’t cast magic like Asyr, he couldn’t fight like Dorak, and he couldn’t heal like Isha. Without the two items that kept him close to equal with the others, he would simply hold the others back.

But even still, Hal thought that his best course of action was to sever his ties to Extoltrius, the Devourer of Hope. If it meant he would feel some small crumb of hope once again, only to have it stolen away from him, leaving him more empty than before, Hal would never have bound himself to this entity.

There was a voice that spoke in shaky words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Asyr simply repeated that phrase as she held her dagger to her neck. The blade was unsteady and her hands were covered in blood. It was a mixture of the black and gold blood that flowed through her veins and the red blood that covered Dorak’s lifeless form. She had been trying everything to heal him, to no avail. She tried potions. Useless. She had tried celestial healing. Pointless. She had even tried demonic blood transfusion. Nothing worked. Asyr had also lost all hope.

While Hal was frozen in place, simply staring at the shaky knife, Isha took this as a sign to move. Her buckler and mace clattered to the ground as she broke into a sprint. She was already chanting a prayer as Asyr pressed the blade into her skin and drew it across her throat.

“Restore the body and soothe the pain of this one, o Mother of Storms.”

As Isha reached Asyr’s side, the flesh and skin began to knit itself back together, the blood returning itself to her veins, and the color returning to her golden skin. Asyr coughed up a small amount of blood as tears began to stream down her face. She tried to put the knife back to her throat, but Isha smacked it out of her hand.

“LET ME DIE!” The words hit Isha like a giant’s fist. She threw the dagger away from the collapsed Asyr, who stood up to run after it. Isha grabbed Asyr around the waist, holding her tightly, causing her to collapse once more, falling to her knees and sobbing loudly.

Isha simply held her from behind as she cried. The sounds of pain-filled tears reverberated throughout the room. Isha wanted to say something, but nothing she could say would be of any help. There are times when someone needs to hear the perfect message which will bring guidance and clarity to their life. Asyr, however, needed comfort and release. As long as Isha held her tightly and allowed her to cry until all of her pain was gone, Asyr would be able to move on.

The crying continued for minutes. Isha repositioned Asyr so that she was crying into Isha’s arm, but eventually Asyr had no tears left to cry. Her eyes were red and puffy, but they looked up at Isha, who had simply been sitting there, watching her companion and ally cry.

“Are you okay, now?” Isha asked this without judgement or irritation, simply empathy and concern.

“No.” The response was flat, but Asyr’s voice was shaky from crying.

“Okay. I’m here now. Do you want to talk about it?”

There was no response from Asyr.

“You know that Dorak isn’t really dead. He’ll come back when we leave The Tomb.”

There was a pause before Asyr said, “I know that. A lot happened. I thought I was fighting some people from my past.”

“You had mentioned an archmage and a demon prince. It must have been a powerful illusion. You’re very brave to be able to fight those powerful enemies.”

Asyr grimaced slightly at the word brave. “I’ve made a plan for dealing with the two of them. It’s not brave, it’s just me doing whatever I can.”

“I’m still frightened by heavy rainstorms. My Lady knows this, but I still see the flooding whenever the rain drowns out my thoughts. You’re much braver than I.”

Asyr paused for a long time before she moved into a sitting position next to Isha. The two were alone in the empty room as Hal had moved Dorak’s body into the hallway to let the two be alone. Asyr eventually spoke up to say, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“If this was outside, Dorak would be dead. He said that we should stop because we weren’t ready for this. I told him that we were wasting time by him saying that.”

“If this was outside, we wouldn’t be facing a monster that could create such powerful illusions. If this was outside, everything would be different. We don’t know what would happen outside this Tomb because we’re here right now. I’m here right now, with you.”

Asyr was silent. She knew Isha was right, but it didn’t change the look on Dorak’s face when the illusion ended. Horror and betrayal. Asyr was the one who killed him, even if it wouldn’t last.

“I want you to come with me to my room in the tavern tonight. I don’t think anything will happen, but I do feel like I should watch over you for a while.”

The request felt like it came out of nowhere, but Asyr simply nodded her head. Isha was right to worry. She had tried to end her own life. She wouldn’t have stayed dead because of the magic of The Tomb, but it was still worrisome. Asyr laid her head on Isha’s shoulder as the two waited for their time to expire.

=======================================

Hal sat in the hallway, waiting for time to expire and looking at his glaive and shield. He couldn’t simply leave them here because The Tomb would return them to him when his time ran out.

“Ssso you wisssh to be rid of my giftsss? What a ssshame. Unfortunately for you, I’m quite clingy. You won’t be rid of me that easssily. I quite enjoy the tassste of your hope and the sssmell of your dessspair.”

Hal threw the glaive down the hallway.

“It’sss not that easssy.”

Hal threw the shield, as well, which clattered loudly, echoing throughout the hallway.

“I’m not the glaive. I’m not the ssshield. I am Extoltriusss. I am the Devourer of Hope. I am a creature of myth and legend. I have ssslithered throughout your world in previousss agesss. I have been imprisssoned by an archmage long dead. I will regain my place in your world and be ssserved the greatessst feassst upon my freedom. You are but a namelessssss idiot in my legend who was the one that ressstored my connection to the world of Erdenesss. For that gloriousss blunder, you will never be rid of me until the day Erdenesss once again feelsss my piercing gaze.”

Hal sat there, a hissing laugh echoing throughout his mind. As the laugh continued, it began to be replaced by the sound of oohs and aahs. Hal could feel himself standing, glaive in hand, shield on his back, and his eyes squinting to block out the blinding sun.

“Four seconds! We have a new party that reached the third floor!”

A cheer went up from the gathered adventurers that spent their time sitting around The Tomb. Hal was pushed forward and had many adventurers clap him on the back. He looked to his sides. Isha and Asyr were to his left. They were just as disoriented as he was, but Hal also saw the two with hands joined and fingers interlaced as they walked forward together.

Hal looked to his right and saw Dorak standing there. Adventurers were trying to push him forward, but he couldn’t be moved. His eyes were hollow. His scales were back to their normal shade, but his claws had grown again and he had gone through another molt. He had aged another year. A faint golden light glowed from the door that the party had just left from. Dorak, as a half-dragon, could live upwards of 300 years, but the rapid aging took a mental toll. Dorak was now 37.

Hal grabbed Dorak’s shoulder and pulled him forward, but his eyes didn’t change. The adventurers began leading the party towards the guild hall as various people throughout the town learned of their accomplishment. They were the third party to ever reach the third floor. They were the first party to defeat the Siren’s Specter. They should have been heroes. The hollow eyes of Dorak left no illusions about who they really were. They were no heroes, they were a random group of people who could barely work together.