Chapter 109: Deceit
Chapter 109: Deceit
A swell of white void wrapped around Leland like a loop at the end of a fishing line. It hooked into him, dragging him far and away. He allowed the strange motion, no doubt knowing that if he wanted to, he could remain motionless. But why would he? He recognized a Lord’s call, the same beckoning and subtle whisper as every time before.
He had done this before – swam the mighty diving plane. Every contract, every negotiation, he had been adrift here, waiting, listening, and yearning for his mortal wishes to be heard. But now, he was being summoned, unprompted, by his Lord – the Lord of Curses.
Twice now he had been pulled by her call. The first, his Dream Ceremony and the promise of unique power and the standing of impressing his parents. The second, his first contract and the greed associated with barter. Now, his third meeting with his Lord, was a bit perturbed, at least with everything that happened only moments prior.
Soul Fire and the utter decimation of the curse’s fuel source – a soul. A soul he ripped directly from the source.
He’d killed people, yes, but this was different. This was worse. An attacking human has death coming, that was the law of the land and the mantra that adventurers lived by. It was a rough habit, one that often led to dark lives, but one needed for survival. Attacking a soul, however? That was pushing a realm of darkness Leland was not prepared to near.
A soul was innocent, in the grand scheme of the universe. They were attached to human consciousness long before and after the choices of the human are made. They are older than the Lords themselves and needed for the continued survival of all things. Destroying one completely… that broke things, and not just things inside of Leland.
Suddenly he created his own definition for the title Calamity – a soul killer. If it was true, Leland didn’t know, but he felt he was going to find out soon. Especially as a familiar skeletal forest came into view.
This time, however, there was no fanfare or celebration. There was no grand showcase of magic or grandiose power. There was only an elderly woman, short, shrouded, and housing an obsidian black crow on her shoulder. Her wrinkled skin and distant, hollow eyes told of her age and her withstanding from humanity. She was a Lord, as deceiving as her appearance was, a being so immensely powerful, they, as a collective institution, controlled the lives of every single human.
She regarded Leland with such guilt, however, that Leland hesitated and forgot about everything. A cold plague whipped through his heart like seeing a child crying on the streets alone. He wanted to move to help her, he wanted to console and make sure she was okay. His mind felt numb and his legs wobbled with fret.
But Leland knew better. She was a wolf in an elder’s skin, no doubt another façade to keep individuals like himself complacent. Leland raised his chin, cleared the doubt from his eyes, and set his posture. He forced himself to remember – he had just obliterated a soul with her curse.“Why?” he finally asked.
“I’m sorry, Leland,” was the Lord of Curses response.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shook her head silently.
“After everything I went through to unlock the final primary curse of my Legacy, this is what I get for my troubles?” The last bit of the question was said with a ferocious accusation. “A curse that goes against everything we talked about when I decided to adopt your Legacy? You said you were not a vile Lord.”
His words stung the Lord like a spear to the heart. “I’m not—”
“Harbinger’s Halo?” Leland seethed, interpreting. “Did you know Harbingers are what they call the Legacies of vile Lords? I didn’t.”
“Leland—”
“And Soul Fire? I can still hear the screams.” A tear welled in his eye and for a moment the guilt invaded his sight. He twitched, the deathly calls the only thing filling his senses. His voice pittered out, “I can hear it pleading for me not to kill it… I can…”
His words were smothered by a warm form. Black robes engulfed him, wringing out all his tears. He sobbed, the dam in his mind finally breaking. All of his stress rolled through his spine, even if it didn’t have to deal with the current epidemic. He was never going to progress, he had realized. Not with Soul Fire being the way it was.
He was never going to cast it, ever again.
“Leland,” the Lord of Curses whispered, “before you decide anything, take some time and review your path.”
Pushing away, Leland set his ire back on the perpetrator of his turmoil. “Why should I ever listen to what you have to say? You lied. You lied and now I have to deal with—”
“I have lied, yes.” The crow on her shoulder flew at Leland, interrupting him, before sharply twisting up. “But not about what you think. I am no vile Lord, but I do share the same broad title, yes.”
He recoiled at that, like a spring being flicked. “That makes no sense.”
“Then let me explain.” With a snap, the Lord of Curses unearthed a stone table. It rose from a realm below quickly and without servant souls to carry it. “A cantrip, one you could learn.”
Leland scoffed, pulling out a chair.
The Lord was silent for a moment, taking a seat as well, but eventually she started talking. There was no rhyme or reason for her starting statement or a general timeline of events, but slowly a narrative formed. She spoke of time before most, the time of the First Lords. She told the story like she had been a witness to the first ascensions, that she had known the beings who decided the natural laws of the world.
There were very few Lords still alive from that time. Not even the Lord of Magic and all his estimated worship was the First, only the current. Yet as the Lord of Curses continued, Leland slowly started to believe he was sitting before someone, or something, different. Was she lying? That was very much a possibility. Was he being manipulated in believing a crazy story from a crazy person older than all mortal humans? Almost definitely.
But it’s not like Leland didn’t want to believe her. He wanted her to tell him everything had been a prank. That everything he had experienced was par for the course of some elaborate Lordly play. That those he’s killed were nothing more than puppets. That the soul he decimated was nothing but a prompt.
But that was a falsity, and he knew it.
“Then, I killed them all.”
Leland lurched at the statement. What? he coughed out in his own mind.
“All nine hundred and thirty one First Lords, minus a few independents, dead,” she continued, but not before locking eyes with her Legacy. “In an instant. All dead from a single curse: Soul Fire.”
“B-but that’s—”
“Impossible? Unbelievable?” Again, her eyes went hollow as the fleeting age settled in her bones. “I don’t regret the decision. They were monsters, those I killed. They wished to treat humanity like an experiment. They wanted to start sick games or laugh at the misfortune of the mortals.”
“That can’t be?” Leland found himself muttering. “Surely there had to be some good Lords?”
“There were, but in their eternal wars, humanity almost succumbed. The mortals were sundered, and I just couldn’t take it any Longer.” The Lord of Curses once again locked eyes with him. “That’s my lie. I lied about who I was, how old I was. You are ancient blood, yes, but I exaggerated just how young of an ancestor I was.”
“T-that doesn’t matter,” Leland lied. Of course it did matter, but the thought of exploring that avenue made him blanch. He sat a little straighter, not because he was suddenly afraid of the being before him, but because… well… he didn’t truly know. Respect, maybe? Dignity? Recognition?
He forced himself to shake out the unneeded distractions. “Why did you say you were but weren’t, a vile Lord.”
The elder sighed. “I am only in title, not in practice. A vile Lord is nothing more than a Lord who has killed another Lord. Of course, if no other Lord cares, then the title is not given. But in my case, and that of the Light Architect, others have cared.”
“W-who set your title?” Leland asked with bated breath.
“Most recently? The previous Lord of Souls and Curses. But that was a pissing match on who got access to Soul and Crow curses. They didn’t like that I have grandfathered-in Legacy abilities from before Legacies were truly a concept.”
“So you killed them?”
The Lord of Curses laughed. “No. No I did not. They said their words, yelled their arguments, but only to deaf ears. No one wants to go to war with the Calamity. No, the previous Lord of Souls and Crows died like any other Lord and someone took their place.”
“So the Calamity is you?” Leland asked.
“More or less.”
“’More or Less?’”
“That was a bygone era. I am not that type of person any longer. There is… no need for humanity to be protected by me any longer.”
Leland thought about that for a second. “Because your Legacies hunt the vile Harbingers?”
“Yes,” the Lord of Curses lied.
He took the answer at face value, however.
The First Lord jumped at the opportunity. “Soul Fire is a stain on, well, everything. Obliterating a soul should not be thought of lightly. But against a Harbinger or even a vile Lord themself? A single soul for the torture of potentially millions of lives?” She gestured in a thought provoking way.
“I don’t know…” Leland muttered to which the Lord of Curses nodded.
“It is your decision, my child. If you wish to never think about the curse again, then I will accept the path forward and never push for anything different. I only ask you to discuss it with those you trust before making up your mind.”
“So you, what? Want me to become a hunter of Harbingers?”
“No. Never such a dangerous practice. Other Lords have champions and the like for that.”
“Then—”
“Leland,” she said in a way that made him think about his mother. “Your path through my Legacy is not set in stone. You make the final decision.”
“But I don’t want to use Soul Fire. The screams are…”
The Lord of Curses nodded. “I understand. I only ask you to discuss with those you trust. I suspect there are others in similar situations to you.”
“You mean my parents?”
She gave a subtle nod. “Not all magic is mana and talent. Hard work and sacrifice go hand in hand.”
Leland paused. He looked at the new circular tattoo around his Legacy crow. “What does—”
“A surprise, one I hope you will enjoy.”
Leland’s face didn’t hide his dissatisfaction.
“It is time to go back. Just remember, whatever path you choose, I and those who love you will support your decision. My Legacy is a dark and despicable history, but yours doesn’t have to be.”
With that, the craggy forest faded away like a mop wiping up a stain and Leland found himself drifting back to reality through an endless white void.