Unbound

Ephemeral Evocation is level 25!

Apprentice Tier!

You Gain:

+10 AFI

+10 FEL

+10 RES

Felix shook himself from the Memory he’d stolen from the last Door Guardian. It wasn’t much of anything, though it was beautiful. Hours of simply flying among the frigid clouds, reveling in the wild winds as his transparent ice-wings cut through them. It was a nice experience, and even made Felix regret killing the Ice Elemental. A little.

The Lesser and Inferior Elementals offered little in the way of Memories. Not to say they didn’t have any, but that they were wan and simplistic. Using Chthonic Tribute en masse as he had been, he’d seen plenty of Memories flash into his core space, but they were all the same: flashes of weather and the occasional bloody violence. Life in a Domain, at least for the weaker creatures, was extremely unvaried.

Not only that, but he’d learned nothing from them. Too weak, maybe. Rime Shaping and Stone Shaping covered most of what they could do, though he had held out hope the Obelons could give him something like Metal Shaping. No such luck.

The fourth layer was smaller than the three previous, as seemed to be the pattern. Felix imagined it as concentric circles, and all of it seemed to converge on the lone mountain that dominated the skyline. Thick clouds and swirling winds blocked the upper reaches of the mountain from sight, even his own enhanced Perception. Still, Felix kept his sights locked on its invisible peak as he ran through rocky foothills, all while killing dozens of Lesser Elementals with each executed Skill. What was up there?

“An eternal blizzard,” Naberius told him when he asked. “Winds sharp as honed steel and as cold as the darkness that came before creation. None have ventured into its boundary and survived, let alone reached the peak.”

Well. That sounds like a challenge to me.

He’d need the Essence anyway. He was compiling a lot, holding it aside from the regular tithe he fed his Hunger, but more was always good. He had plenty of uses for it.

Hope you’re doing okay, bud.

Pit stood shakily atop a pile of bloody meat and fur, half caked with snow that was already turning to crimson ice. Blood poured from between segments of his barding, but he had done it.

He’d survived.

“Breath of the Wild!” Pit said between ragged breaths. Immediately, a wind of light and green-gold motes rose up all around him. His wounds began to close and the shakes that wracked his horse-sized frame ceased as his Strength and Vitality were temporarily boosted.

Breath of the Wild is level 19!

Cold Resistance is level 49!

The fourth layer Door Guardian had been some sort of giant ape…pig thing, and it was as ugly alive as it was dismembered. All four of its arms had been tipped with metal talons, viciously sharp and far longer than should be allowed. Most of his wounds had come from those claws, and his barding had several deep scratches that would take forever to buff out.

Harn…can have…the apprentices do it.

You Have Digested An Inferior Elemental Core (x108)!

You Gain:

+8 VIT

+5 END

You Have Digested A Lesser Elemental Core (x13)

You Gain:

+14 STR

+12 VIT

Ugh. Now it digests. Pit scowled at the small boosts he’d received, despite the truly outrageous amounts of foes he’d eaten.

He limped off the corpse, unwilling to root around in the four-hands’ remains for an elemental core. He wasn’t even sure it had one, and he didn’t care now. The portal was right there, and the wind was so cold. Forward was better than stagnation.

The icy surface of the portal slid over him like diving into the bottom of Khasma, except every part of him. Even his Mind shuddered as his thoughts slowed to a trickle. There was only forward. Only the fight. And then it faded, the world turned suddenly warm as a bright noon sun straddled the sky, and Pit gasped.

Spring?

It wasn’t, but the impression remained. The terrain was far rockier than the foothills from the previous layer, but the wind didn’t cut so deeply and even the ice underfoot was pleasant rather than a bitter punishment. Pit closed his eyes and enjoyed it, just for a moment.

He could continue in a second.

“Pit!”

Felix barreled out of the snow, appearing as if out of nowhere and catching Pit up in a too-tight hug. Pit coos of delight were cut short by a sharp burning pain.

Felix pulled back. “Oh! You’re hurt!” He reached to his waist, where a hard-cased pouch sat and pulled free a bulbous crimson potion. “Here. Drink.”

Pit did so, happy to see the Health Potion almost as much as he was to see his boy. He drank deep and enjoyed the scritches from his Companion’s sharp claws. The potions boosted his flagging regeneration, pushing the worst of his wounds closed, and the lack of pain was a treat more delicious than any elemental core. He relished it.

“I’m glad I found you. The Witches didn’t tell me the fifth layer was a sort of safe zone until we got here. Had I known I would’ve rushed ahead way faster.” Felix was staring up the mountain, frowning. “They’re hiding things.”

They were much closer to the mountain, and the ice, metal, and stone of the Domain was lifted in miniature peaks that would perhaps be considered mountains in any other place. Here they were like children playing in the shadow of their father. The storm above flashed, and a deep thunder rolled.

“Witches say it’s the end of the Domain up there. I’m more interested in what they’re not saying, though.”

Pit grunted. “I just want to finish the Path.”

“You too?” Felix nodded when Pit confirmed it, looking as if he’d expected nothing less. “Good. We’ll topple this damn peak.”

A tired trill fled Pit’s throat, and he settled his head against his Companion’s once again. They stayed that way for a bit, until chanting from down trail pricked their ears.

“What’s that?”

“Witches,” Felix said. “C’mon. They’re down here, doing some ritual thing.”

At the bottom of a small crevasse made of stone striated with metal and ice, a strange little stave church had been built. Felix supposed it wasn’t really a stave church, but that was the closest analogy he could find. The structure was a single layer, but layered with roofs that looked like they’d been copied out of some history book on vikings. Oh, and it was made entirely of cloudy ice.

The door was open.

“I guess we go inside?” Felix said. Pit was following him a few yards back, walking carefully as if he was still injured. Felix fought the urge to obsess, but he’d noticed his friend’s Health hadn’t healed all the way to full. It was stuck about three quarters of the way there—the only reason for that was a significant injury. Why’s he hiding it?

“After you,” Pit said, tossing his head. “I’ll make it there on my own, just fine.”

“Alright.”

Felix wasn’t stupid. He knew his friend was having a rough time; he just didn’t know what to do.

He pressed on, pushing through the open ice-door. Beyond the interior of the structure was all one huge chamber. Support struts like narrow icicles stretched between the ceiling and floor, creating the impression that the walls were made of thin sticks, bundled together over and over. In the very center, impossible to miss, were the Witches.

“Frostfather, the Caretakers have come to replenish the gifts you have given unto us.” Naberius’ voice was just as sharp and high as before, but it had a certain resonant quality. Felix couldn’t tell if it was the acoustics of the room or just plain old magic, but he was betting on the latter. “We bring to you sacrifices.”

Oh, I don’t like the sound of that, Pit sent as he padded up behind Felix.

If they mean us, they’re gonna have a bad day. But they’re not that stupid, Felix pointed at the giant blue women, who were now pulling oddly shaped objects from their robes. Look.

The Witches got busy unwrapping the objects, as they were each covered in a number of animal skins, like weird skin-presents. Felix watched, eager to soak in their process. Upon coming to the fifth layer, the Witches had informed him that this was their task to fix the Domain.

“They each have a designation, like I do, except theirs lets them move through the lower layers like ghosts. Nothing will touch them.” ‘Caretakers’ they had called themselves, as opposed to challengers. It made sense, if the mechanisms of the Domain needed attention, then why not hire your priesthood to do the dirty work?

“Like we do,” Pit said.

“What?”

In response, Pit nudged his head forward and a blue window rotated into Felix’s view. It was from the Frostfather, as his own had been, and it accepted Pit as a challenger on the Path of Rule.

“Whoa, what?” Felix’s Mind whirled. “Is that why we were separated?”

The sound of splintering ice filled the building, and they both dropped into battle-ready stances immediately. But instead of an enemy coming for them, the ground had opened up and was flowing with near-solid ice Mana. The thick, gelatinous liquid power crackled as it formed, shaping into an eight foot tall pillar upon which a large, shallow bowl manifested before the entire thing snapped from Mana to true ice. It was an altar.

“Let us do as you have commanded us,” Fornis said. “Flesh of prey, given in fear.”

“Fangs of predator, taken in battle,” Sitri wheezed.

“The breath of life, stolen from the world,” Naberius intoned. After each sentence, another item was unwrapped and placed upon the shallow basin of ice. The leg of some hooved creature, dried and festooned with fur. The teeth of a monster, each fang the size of a dagger blade and exuding a vicious poison Mana. Finally, a glass bottle that contained within it a whirlwind. The moment they touched the altar, ice climbed across the offering like crystalline spiderwebs, until they were fully encased.

That’s an Inferior Air Elemental. Felix could tell that much before it was entombed in the altar. The magic of whatever was going on here was interfering too much for him to tell what the other things were, even with Voracious Eye.

“Blood calls to blood, the water within us all. We offer that last, to seal our pact.” As one, all three of the Witches lifted transparent daggers and drove them into their abdomens.

Felix took several steps forward, shock, concern, and uncertainty warring within him. Blood poured from the Witches’ wounds, but none of them had so much as flinched. The crimson stream soaked the ice until the altar basin was brimming full. Only then did their wounds cease flowing and the ice knives were removed. They were clean.

“Frostfather! Grant us renewal!”

The words of all three in unison shook the chamber. They buzzed through levels of harmonics in Felix’s senses as if piercing through something more than frigid air.

The altar began to glow. Purple-white and silvery-gray, it ratchets up from dim to blinding in a matter of seconds, forcing Felix and Pit both to squint. The structure around them rumbled, just a little at first, as that buzzing noise lifted into higher frequencies. But the rumbling grew louder, the resonance more intense, until it felt like they were standing inside a ringing bell.

Felix bared his teeth, reaching for his Skills, but was surprised by a purple and white notification that appeared in the air above the altar.

Ritual Rejected!

The Frostfather Denies Replenishment Until The Challengers Complete Their Path!

Ascend To The Peak!

“That has—”

“Never happened before.”

“Challengers,” Naberius said. All three Witches looked to Felix and Pit, varying degrees of shock and dismay swirling openly on their large faces and agitated Spirits.

“Bring it on,” Pit growled.

Felix snorted. “What he said.”

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