Accidental Reaver

Chapter 227 - 226: Deals

Luke stood still next to Meric's ice shard carcass. With lithe steps, Iona came beside the Reaver. Lulu's gentle healing aria mended Luke and Sooty. The shifting lakebed settled, and the void cracks above reversed. Gentle starlight shone down upon the battle site.

Sooty took solace next to Luke's shadow. Both of them had seen better days. Despite the victory, internal damage was apparent. The poison had left its traces, and the sheer physical force of fighting a being that utterly outclassed him in strength had taken its toll.

The scent of spring followed Iona, spreading across what used to be Meric's domain. A silver and black portal spawned at the far edge of the shallow lakebed, next to what Luke saw as a twisting arcane path of fragmented crystal clashing against molten forces.

Steadily, the Reaver got to his feet. The remnant mist came into his elemental vessel. His left arm had already regenerated completely. His midsection had seen better days, but vampiric regeneration, blood haze, and his natural vitality as an elemental made what should have been a crippling injury manageable. Even now, it slowly sealed up.

He dragged himself toward the loot Meric had dropped, accounting for five items.

Iona saw fit to walk beside him, talking his ear off—or perhaps nagging, much like a concerned wife—though more in a mentor's way. She crossed her arms. "Elemental humans are ridiculous. Do you understand how much of that poison should have killed you ten times over? A direct strike from Meric? Without some sort of defensive mitigation, the loss of your arm is the best outcome."

Luke chuckled tiredly, "I can't quite believe how sturdy I am myself. In the middle of a fight like that, it comes naturally now. After that duel with Annika, I've started to accept that I can sacrifice a limb for a better outcome. Still, it's hard to wrap my mind around."

He eyed the silver-black portal that had formed recently, pausing mid-stride. Blue gaps in the water glimmered faintly. The Reaver wondered why there wasn't a Blood Orb like in the past—but he pushed the thought aside. He had bigger issues to handle.

The quest reward would be more than enough in return for the risk, not to mention all the other things he'd blatantly stolen from the boss as they fought.

"Hey, Iona," he said, thumbing toward the whirling arcane maelstrom beside the portal, "that's got to be the path down, right? Doesn't look particularly safe, does it?"

Iona summoned a tangle of vines, intertwining and sealing off the new path. She seemed to be instructing Timber with subtle gestures. The Thunderpaw Bear lumbered toward the edge between the twentieth and nineteenth floors and sat down, roaring once—an unspoken warning.Though not verbalizing it, his body language made it clear he wanted to know what was going on. Luke simply stared at Iona.

She put her hands on her hips and relaxed slightly. "That's the way of things, Luke. Better to be safe than sorry. Now that the pathway reopened with Meric dead, any of the teams from below could backtrack if they wanted. That might not go well, depending on who we meet. From the nineteenth floor, if we're being trailed, anyone could just come in. What you did, killing Meric by yourself, was a ridiculous feat. I saw it with my own eyes, and I still can't quite believe it."

Luke exhaled slowly. Ice crystals formed in the air from his breath. Sooty finally hopped onto his right shoulder, while the Whispering Tome settled back into its rightful position. Xera sheathed herself as he walked forward.

After a moment to think, Luke said, "It's probably best if we leave now anyway. I'm completely drained, trying to use the Greed Concept this much. Incredible power. But the strain on my mind, and something else I can't quite identify, is more than I can handle for long. If only I could do what I did back during the Tide."

Iona snapped her fingers. "Lamenting over a chance state is folly. We've overstayed our welcome. I wish to return to the surface." Both her companions, Lulu and Timber, came up behind her. The trio marched toward the silver and black portal, engaging in idle conversation now that they'd mutually agreed to leave the Spire and its monstrous inhabitants.

The magical phenomenon swallowed them. The group finally left the clutches of the suffocating lakebed.

In an opulent meeting room trimmed in red and gold, with accents of deep azure, four souls occupied a grand wooden table. Floating lights drifted lazily through the air, reflecting off black marble tiles and illuminating grossly expensive paintings, architecture, and mana-enchanted materials that lined the walls.

Seated in the last position, Calista, the picture of calm and propriety on the outside, was anything but on the inside. An insidious tugging pulled at her, a sensation that amplified every few minutes. Starting at the back of her head, festering down into her soul. By now, it'd became painful. Her fingers trembled. Like anyone here, she wore a red armor set, trimmed with gold. The rest of her weaponry and abilities were nowhere to be seen.

Janeus. He's been insistent, calling upon me using the connection we share through that dreadful bastard. Stay away. Stay away. Neither of you can seriously expect me to…

But the pull to the Soul Plane intensified. Calista held on, she couldn't—wouldn't—go just yet.

At the head of the table, Lorcan Pyrite listened to the reports from the other Pyres of the Pyrite family. Concluding the meeting, Auren, Veyron, and Audrey left the grand hall, in order of Pyre position, as was etiquette. Lorcan extinguished the three colored flames that accompanied him. Calista began to gather herself.

"Sat seated, Fourth Pyre."

Never granddaughter. Always Pyre, or some other title.

Hand in her lap, Calista stilled. She dared not speak first. Such actions often led to disastrous consequences around her grandpa. Three in this city could treat him casually, and she wasn't one of them.

Clasping both hands right under his chin, Lorcan stared at Calista. "Anything to say, Fourth Pyre?"

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"None at all, Patriarch. Please go ahead with whatever you have planned for me."

"It seems not all is lost with you, Fourth Pyre. I offer you an accord. You brought great shame to the family, losing against the dog of the City Lord. It is essential that I confirm you have obtained results within the Ember Grounds."

Calista's heart rate elevated. She straightened her spine. "Yes Patriarch. I reached a deeper understanding of the flame while in the grounds and refined my abilities. I am more than confident that I won't fail in such a way again."

Lorcan's features introduced the tiniest hint of emotion. "Understand then, why I am to do this. Fourth Pyre, henceforth, you are exiled from this compound and stripped of all titles. A Pyrite no longer. Your sentence is to find, track, and kill Rune. When you fulfill these terms, you may reclaim the mantle of Pyre once more. Gather your equipment. The other Pyres will see to escorting you off the premises."

Like a kicked puppy thrown out into the mud and discarded by its master, Calista internally suffered. Emotions flooded throughout her body. Denial. Grief. Astonishment. Understanding. Faithful to the teachings disseminated throughout the family, she kept an otherwise impassive face. Calista pushed out her chair, stood, and bowed.

"If that is your verdict, Patriarch."

Turning on her heels, Callista took measured steps toward the exit. Glittering gold. Flashing flames. The darkest shadows underneath. They all clashed within these constrained walls. Entering into the mural-etched halls that connected with the meeting room, each of the remaining Pyres awaited her. Her uncle, Auren. Her aunt, Audrey. The last, the Storm Spear user, Veyron. Lightning sparked off his purple and red leather scale attire. Twin scars trailed under his eyes.

Veyron crossed his arms, chin jutted towards the gate that guarded the family compound. He said, "Out into the wilds you go, crossbow runt. Hunt down the wild mongrel and you'll rise from these ashes. Or extinguish yourself and live a life outside these walls. It matters little to me."

Audrey handed over a spatial bag containing what Calista anticipated to be any remaining basics afforded to her. They solemnly escorted Calista out of the Pyrite compound. They knew she already held all other necessary equipment. It was drilled into them all from a young age. Keep your gear within arm's reach, as you'd never know when you may need it.

The gilded gates shut behind Calista. It had all gone so fast she practically received no time to collect herself, react, or grieve. Would she ever see her little brother again? She'd be lying if she said she cared much about other members in the family. What with the cold way the majority of them tended to treat her. In any case, it was her family. She lost her sense of purpose.

And with it, much of the resistance she levied against the seed of greed twisting in her soul. The decree seemed to consume her agony, grief, and negative emotion. Calista shuddered. She gripped her hands tightly, suppressing the tears and started to put herself back together. Any thoughts became jumbled, the shock simply too much, too fast.

From their perspective, this might have been a light punishment. Their twisted love. But for Calista, instead, it became the ultimate sentence. She lost any chance of finagling her way out of Greed's Decree. To track down and kill the man who controlled her soul? What another joke. She walked down well-kept streets of the Western Quadrant, bird song soothed, but did little to solve anything else. Well-to-do citizenry enjoyed their day. Many rejoiced in the recent triumph Sylen basked in.

With the typical locations she relied on barred, Calista went for one of the less-occupied parks in the Western Quadrant. Orange leaves gave way to blue-tinted plants. Benches lined immaculate crystal pathways. Private Guards patrolled nearby. The result of a pooled together compensation system from select neighborhoods near the private park. They tended to be a notch above the regular guards within the rest of Sylen. Of course, they allowed her in. Few failed to recognize Callista. There were only so many tier 3 individuals in this city, especially those who delved into the Tower.

Gripping her familiar red cloak, she sat on an oakwood bench. Smooth black metal poured from the wooden edges serving as a hand rest. Calista took control over her breathing, only now realizing its irregular rate. She righted her posture and prevented herself from cursing her grandfather's foolishness and unforgiving nature. Greed's Decree swelled within her. She knew it as well as anyone. It was only a matter of time.

Its clutches started to strain her mind. She confused reality with the Soul Plane. Black waters washed upon her. She was there, yet not. A golden-skinned elf awaited her, in regular white and blue garb. His gaze poured out pure disdain. "Accept the gift, Second," he said. Black waters accompanied by abyssal chains dragged Calista further into the Soul Plane. Her physical body existed in that park, but her soul and any mental capacity had been taken hostage. She struggled, but to no avail. The will of resistance decayed against mental agony.

Janeus ignored the chains also clamped to his ankles and wrapped around his lower legs. The black waters rose to his knees, dampening otherwise pristine attire. He inspected the dirt under his fingernails as if the environmental catastrophe all around the Soul Plane was nothing but an unimportant bother. He flicked a thumb out to the side. "I can't make you do anything, Calista. It is to my relief that I don't have to. He can."

Calista shut her eyes. Like that somehow would free her of this soul-based prison. She knew better. And yet she did it anyway. She put both hands over her temples, digging into auburn hair. She internally chanted the exact words over and over. You can't make me do this. You can't make me do this. You can't make me do this. You can't make me do this.

The worst man she'd ever encountered answered her impassively. His icy blue eyes, flecked by gold, invited profound terror rather than charm. He sat on a frozen section of the black seas that drowned thousands of consumed entities.

The Sin of Greed uttered, "I can understand it from your point of view, Calista."

He played with a spark of blue-gold ice. The aura around him changed compared to the last time Callista sensed him on the battlefield during the Tide. It was destined, she supposed, he, alongside some of the other top performers, had their stories exaggerated to the highest heavens. But they all carried a kernel of truth. A mere tenth of what was said about him, if true, would have absolutely resulted in astounding gains and feats. She wouldn't be surprised if the only reason he wasn't tier 3 by this point was the level requirement.

Counter to the hatred bubbling in Calista's veins, her knees scraped against the rockshelf underneath the surrounding waters. That madman's impassive inspection crawled along her form. No matter the amount of clothes on, she felt naked. Stripped bare. Her soul belonged to this man. He stole it without permission.

Waving a hand, Luke said, "You can go, Janeus. I've already told you what needs to be done if I have further need of you, you'll know."

The elf started to fade away as he bowed in deference. "Should you require anything else, my lord, you need only call."

Remnants of the elf's spirit left for physical reality, the unfeeling monster spoke again to Calista. "I know better than to believe you're utterly loyal. Complete compliance is your destiny, but I lack the time for you to accept it. That, Calista, earns you a chance."

"A chance?" Calista became soaked from the black saltwater. Unearthly wails reverberated, leaving no respite. The cold worsened, with her tormentor as the source.

He came up to Calista and put a hand under her chin, leaning in. Their eyes met. Chains wrapped around Calista's wrists, pulling hard enough to arch her back. Frost spread on her exposed jawline, crawling down.

"It's not a mystery what it is I want, Calista. My father is missing, and I have it on good intel that your father, or whoever the fuck is in that tower on your family lands, is the most responsible. But that gives you some leeway. That man must die, and so will many others. Of that I have no doubt. But many is not all, Calista."

The monster roughly let go of her. Salt spray showers soaked Calista's skin. Greed tapped upon the air. A lattice of frozen crystals encased the pair. The black water receded, and freezing drafts paused. But in here, there was no warmth, for the coldest soul clung close.

Calista ruminated, on the verge of cracking. What has she done to deserve all this? Where did it all go wrong?

"I was taught on my first time here that thoughts are permeable in the Soul Plane. You question what you did to deserve this? You lost, Second Sinned. So here's the deal. You assist in the destruction of the Red Gorrids, and yes, most of your family. We can spare a select few. With a condition attached. Any tier 3 must die. You seem to cherish your brother. He began this conflict between us. If you cooperate, he can live."

Sin brushed a hand on Calista's cheek. "Make your choice. Now. Hesitate for long, and the consequence may become unbearable. I can strip your will, if I must."

Searing pain began to immolate Calista's soul. She cried out. Skin peeled. Blood vessels burst. Tears dried. Bones cracked.

"I…"

Frost wormed into her ears. Tendrils of gold crawled on her chest. Salt crystallized.

"I…"

The rock shelf beneath Calista crumbled. Ice crystals melted on command. A flame went out.

"I…submit."

Gold and ice carassed a caged soul, for its inner fire had died. Will reformed, hanging onto a tenuous promise.

"It all begins now, Calista. This city, which has come to enforce the status quo, will see it crumble. Janeus will tell you where to be, and when. Listen to him."

The chains around Calista loosened. Her tormentor already vanished from his Soul Plane. Whether it be here, or in reality, she felt devoid of warmth.