Wizards tower 3 a litrpg.., p.20
Wizard's Tower 3: A LitRPG Adventure, page 20
It took a bit of a struggle for the man to prop himself up on his elbows and finally notice my presence. "Master Fargus?"
"Indeed. I arrived at your cabin three days ago at your invitation. You greeted me in such a state of drunken shame that you swore off wine for an entire year and immediately collapsed into slumber. Do you not recall?" My lie was delivered smoothly and calmly. Perhaps I should have been honest, but the man had something to do with naming the Battle of the Four Couches. This was only the beginning of my vengeance for that.
"No…" He then mumbled more to himself, voicing half-finished thoughts. Eventually, his wine-addled mind settled on bitter anger. "Well, now you have arrived and seen the wizard, the Lord Alred Froom, in all of his greatness! You can leave." He waved a hand in my direction as if shooing me away.
"No," I said firmly. I watched as the rejection sank into his head, and he sat straight up to look at me. His face was twisted into a mask of anger so foul that I wished I had hired a painter to capture the sight to taunt him with in the years to come.
"No!?" Alred’s breath became heavy, and his eyes bulged from his face.
I ignored the theatrics to subtly motion for the servants to depart, which they seemed eager to do. "No," I said again, just as firmly as the first time.
"I am lord here! The first Planar Lord! All of these lands are mine! I have spells that will send you spinning off into the great void! You will depart, or I will make you leave!" His voice had become a shout that thundered through the bamboo cabin.
I appraised the man. Spells that would force a person off the plane? I hadn’t seen anything of that sort in the tome he’d provided. It sounded more like the type of threat one gave to an unruly noble to stay their hand and force their behavior. Still, if a spell like that—one tied to a location—existed, then I would be very interested.
Regardless… "You’ll be casting no spells in that condition."
"I…" His voice trailed off, and his anger fled as he seemed to realize his state. Then, as if a bottle shattered, he began to cry. Not just cry, but unreservedly sob. His words came out in bits and pieces between wails of pain, an ugly sight that I had to school my face against. "I—she is gone! She left me! Turned—turned herself into a tree! A thrice-damned tree! I—I—I… It’s not right! I want her back. She was my only…"
I waited for more, but the pain he felt was so great his emotions overcame his actions. Softly, I spoke, "A tree, you say?"
"Aye! A tree! What use have I with a tree!? I go and sit and look at her sometimes, Nemon, and wonder why."
"Care to show me, old friend?"
An hour later, we sat on a bench before the oak tree I had seen looming over the forest. Great boughs lifted high into the sky, and it was truly a wonderful tree to behold. Beside me, Alred once again slept, his head leaning against my shoulder. I had refused to depart until he spelled himself clean, so the stench of wine wasn’t in his clothes. Though, that didn’t help the smell of his breath as he snored. Luckily, the forest itself was alive with the smell of flowers and plants.
It had been a long time since I had simply sat and not worked on something. It was almost an uncomfortable feeling to not be productive, but I didn’t want to wake Alred. He seemed to need a more restful sleep than the kind that drink forced.
At first, my thoughts were on the words of conversation that had taken place when we arrived. He’d described the spellwork used to change her, a druidic ritual. I could still see the telltale signs of it in place. It was still an unfortunate thing to see. I knew what happened when a mage changed themselves into an animal. The mind of the animal wasn’t large enough to contain the mind of a human, and the result when they returned to their humanity was not a pleasant one.
To change into a tree was assuredly worse, in my mind. There was no chance that her mind remained. In fact, I couldn’t recall any trees possessing an organ like a brain, though it was something to research later. If there was one, then perhaps longevity by transformation could be possible in that fashion.
Alred had also briefly mentioned the tomb he had created in the crystal beneath the tree. One he had prepared for himself when he departed. While it was a bit morbid, I did approve of the idea. It’s much easier to deal with the bodies of those who die when they make their own arrangements beforehand. Provided that they can afford their arrangements.
I recalled a time or two when a master at the Arcanum had requested an elaborate burial more fitting a national hero, lacking the coin in their estate to fulfill their request. The first had been easy to deal with, as they hadn’t had any relatives. The second had been an unpleasant situation where some of the remaining family wanted to grant the master their wish, and another part wanted a simple burial so that the estate could be divided between them. I’d had to summon a priest to deal with the matter, as it’d been so outside my purview that I was tempted to simply electrocute them all.
Beyond that, my mind continued to wander down thoughts forgotten and distant memories, and I allowed it to do so until it arrived at the barrels in the back of my mind. Something I knew would occur, as Alred’s immense grief was sure to lead me to my own. The barrels were many and seemed only to grow in time. Yet I was able to find one or two small ones in the back. People that I wasn’t as close to from when I was much younger.
I would peek inside, tentatively at first, before opening them up and recalling. Hours passed like this, and more than once I found myself unwillingly shedding tears. Finally, Alred awoke and seemed to be thinking more clearly than he had been. A guilty expression passed over his face, then a shamed one from falling asleep, but I ignored it as I stood and stretched.
With my back to the man, I asked, "As I arrived at your invitation, I assume there is something you wish to show me?"
"Oh, yes!" I could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. "Would you like to see the giants?"
34
It was a slow, meandering walk back towards his crystal tower, but one that I quite enjoyed. Mostly because the exertion left Alred sweaty and out of breath. It was a petty joy, certainly, but one that was easily added towards the tally of vengeance for his wizard tricks. Stelk joined us, silently walking behind and to the right as soon as we left the forest proper, Alred giving the man only a shallow nod for greeting.
While I hadn’t yet entered the tower, the entry hall was as grand and pompous as I imagined it would be. Crystalline statues of maidens and young men in somewhat artistic, if garish, poses created a corridor within the round room. The walls themselves were designed as murals that depicted the various adventures and important moments in Alred’s life that he wanted to display for his guests. Powerful creatures slain, battles being waged, dungeons cleared, triumphs and failures, all telling of the Planar Lord’s life. I was particularly annoyed at one mural that seemed to show me breathing fire down his neck as he worked to study magic.
Around us, the robed mages paused to bow low in greeting to the man, but he didn’t even bother to acknowledge their presence. Instead, he focused a conflicted expression on the one or two murals that depicted him with his late wife. I didn’t slow in our walk, not wanting him to distract himself from the goal of showing me the sleeping giants from a bygone age.
At the end of the corridor of statues, we paused before the archway that led to the spiraling staircase. Alred gave it a grimace and a look of distaste before sharing a knowing glance with me. At the same time, we both cast spells that would levitate us a few feet off the floor and began to traverse the stairs in a hovering fashion.
Behind us, I heard Stelk struggling to keep up. Alred hadn’t taught him the spell needed to travel this way, though I could only form suspicions as to why. On the stairwell, other mages that were going up and down would pause and move to the side as Alred passed. The doorways that led off to different floors showed me a multitude of quarters, meal halls, libraries, lecture halls, laboratories, and more. Magic workings of many different types were wrought in great numbers, even this early in the morning.
If I had to place a number, I imagined there to be at least three hundred mages housed in his tower, more than I had seen in any place that wasn’t one of the academies. That he’d gathered so many was noteworthy. That he’d gathered so many to work for him was extraordinary. I didn’t envy his position, though. I wouldn’t want that responsibility interfering with my own research. I did note a few interesting applications of spells that I hadn’t considered before, even though they were too low Tier to make an immediate difference in the world at large.
Yet when we reached the top of the tower, all my thoughts and considerations fell away. I was dumbfounded by what I saw. Behind us, I could see clearly into the void. Easily, I recognized other planes that circled the world like the one we were on. Crystal benches had been wrought around the tower’s top, and we weren’t alone. Other mages sat or stood and whispered to each other their observations. Yet none of that was what caused me to hold my breath. It was the giants.
The top of the tower was maybe the height of three men above the top of the quartz cliff. But on that quartz cliff was an enormous flat shelf filled with the sleeping forms of giants. Not any kind of giant that I had imagined, either. I had pictured a giant to be an elf as tall as my tower. I knew humans pictured them as large humans, three or four times the size of an ogre. Yet true giants weren’t those at all. Each one was the size of a mountain itself. Their sleeping bodies rested in great mounds that made even the Tervan’s snake god pale in size. Four enormous, clawed legs. Bodies covered in giant spikes. A face that held a long, thin snout. It was preposterous and alarming to consider. These giants were some relative to a porcupine or a hedgehog. The mountains full of giant ants now struck me as something I should have considered more.
Even greater than these giants was the domed spell that kept them in their slumber. A spell that could easily cover the entirety of Sena. Maybe all of the five kingdoms. I could see in the working the hints of many different types of magic: A powerful sleeping spell, a barrier that contained all within it and prevented anything from entering. More than that, I saw the spellwork that took death mana from the sleeping giants and converted it to life mana. What looked like time magic as well, though I wasn’t entirely certain. This spellwork held complexities beyond what I ever thought or seen.
I withdrew my tome and began to record both my observations and the intricate spell forms that were used. I sat on one of the many benches that had been placed around the rooftop solely for gazing at the giants. While I couldn’t possibly power such a spell without the holy magic of the gods, I didn’t need to. This sleeping spell, which kept them alive, was the stasis magic that my tower crystal had asked for only a couple of years ago. That told me it was possible for mortals to cast such a spell, and that they’d done so before. If I could pull it apart to see how it worked, the piece that converted death to life could be the answer to the Longevity spell I had sought for so long!
I was so enraptured by my writing and analysis that I hadn’t heard Alred depart. He must have, because he was now coming back up the stairs, interrupting me with, "Still at it?"
I had already finished transcribing the spellwork, and had been studying the patterns to see if I could comprehend it when he spoke. With a glance up, I gave him a pleased smile. "This might hold the answers I’ve been working towards for a long time."
"The slumbering spell? Aye, I considered looking into it as well. I thought if I could master it in time, I could put Natali to sleep until I had a cure. She didn’t want that." Alred shook his head. "She wanted to do her damn ritual and ‘return to the soil.’ I—she… She could be so hard-headed at times. It was part of why I loved her."
"Loved? Have you stopped?" I asked quietly.
"No. And I don’t think I ever will. Not in this lifetime. Yet she’s all I can think about. Like a bird constantly pecking at my head." Alred came to sit down on the bench beside me. "What do I do, old friend? I don’t think I can live without her."
I nodded sympathetically and stroked my beard before answering. I knew the question was rhetorical, but that didn’t mean that I could let his words lie unanswered. "You work. You work on the dream you and she had. You work to save as many as you can. Because, for all the pain you feel now, how many others will feel the same if you don’t? Yes, it’s a sacrifice, but this is the End of the Age and we all must work, or we will all die. If you can’t do it for anyone else, do it for Natali."
My words hung in the air, the chatter of other mages that had been in the background for as long as I had been up here falling away to a heavy silence. I hadn’t meant to speak so loudly, so adamantly, but I had. I regretted speaking my words immediately. Not because of the message or the tone, but because I had more audience than just Alred. I wished I’d had more time to prepare my words, to select each one specifically so that they would echo further or carry Alred’s motivations higher. However, that was just one more tiny regret, and I shoved the emotion away.
Instead, I filled myself with determination. How hypocritical would I be to deliver such words and taskings unto my friend and not apply myself equally? No. I had visited long enough. I made my decision. It was time to return to my tower. I stood up, tucking away the tome I had been holding and offering a hand to my old assistant. I could tell from the look on Alred’s face that he understood both my words and what I intended by standing up.
We might not see each other again, but so long as we carried on in our work, that too was a sacrifice we were willing to make.
35
We spoke more as we traveled back towards the gate to my home—casual topics, such as the slow growth of the plane and transporting earth as well as people. His plan to increase the speed seemed to be the grant of permission to build a tower and hold lands for each mage that contributed a certain amount. Likewise, druids would be granted forests and the like. I managed to speak to him about the inclusion of commoners from the other kingdoms, though we were both against slavery spreading to humanity’s new home.
I informed him of my progress in lifting plateaus, but also warned him of the threat of the hydra broodmothers, which he found equally alarming and fascinating. Yet, for all our small conversations, my mind was awhirl with the possibilities the stasis spell presented. If a spell could convert death mana to life mana, then what about fire to ice? Electricity to water? Could it be cast offensively? Certainly, it wouldn’t be a quick death, but a spell field that caused the effect could be a potential barrier against the Pestilence. The possibilities were many, and in a way, it felt as if I were torturing myself with distractions.
It was after we’d parted ways at the gateway to my home and I’d stepped through the portal that I became aware something was wrong. On the other side of the portal, I was greeted with many serious faces. Few could look me in the eyes, but Kine reluctantly stepped forward.
"Master, something horrible has happened."
That was when they all began speaking at once. I quickly pieced together that there’d been an attack and several deaths. An assassin had managed to make it into one of the towers, disguised as a maid. Several guards and mages were dead. Not mages—witches. Pyl had injured the assassin, though he was at death’s door. Loralie was dead. The seer was gone, possibly involved as well. Guards and wolves had given chase, but the killer had escaped down a prepared rope off the plateau.
I found myself shaking with emotion. The recent visit with Alred and his grief had weakened me more than I suspected, leaving me in a precarious position. Loralie’s death tipped me over that edge. The barrels in my mind creaked and cracked, and I felt myself sinking beneath decades of loss. Waves of emotion frightened me far more than even the eyes of the snake god. Those eyes were that of something unfathomably powerful. This was something that should be within my control but wasn’t.
I found myself howling with anger and pain as I flew above my tower. I summoned air elementals by the dozens and sent them north to find the killer. I envisioned long and painful tortures that I would inflict on the culprit.
It wasn’t that I loved Loralie. I’d barely known her, for all we lived close by for so long. It wasn’t her beauty or death that truly moved me. It was the loss of potential. The loss of what she represented. How dare anyone take that from me!? I was so close to having an answer, to finalizing my longevity spell. So close to never being alone again.
The gargoyles flew around me in a deadly circle. The elementals around my tower and in my lake thrashed about violently. My 5th Tier earth elemental squirmed and convulsed, its tentacles writhing and slapping about in panic. Yet I didn’t care. Those elementals were tied to my mind, but they were only reacting to a thimble's worth of my pain. They wanted to experience what this world had to offer? I would let them.
By the time my howl had finished, I had hundreds of wind elementals winding through the forests and above the glades to the north of my tower. The sight through which I saw them was fractured, the different views I could see painful, but I welcomed it. It was a weak pain compared to the waves that racked against me.
Yet my attention fell away from the hundreds as one elemental found the seer. The woman, whom I’d met only a few times, could scry through blood and peek into possible futures. I'd never put much stock in oracles; their prophecies had never been relevant to me. And if their powers had truly worked, then why was I the one who warned about the End of the Age? I flew north from my tower to get a better look at what my elemental had found, but when I arrived, I wanted to look away.
Yet my mind couldn’t look away from her now. Her body sat cross-legged on a stone, a wooden bowl held between her legs. Her torso had fallen back, and one arm and a finger pointed northeast. The bowl in her lap held blood and intestines, the requirements she needed for her spellcraft, but they weren’t animals’ this time. They were her own. Scrawled in blood on the stone beneath her were three words: Ask about Wavecrest.
