Curselock

Chapter 139: Chameleon Lord

“—so, I’d like to make a contract for any information that might help Glenny.”

The Lord of the Chameleon stared down at Leland from the lowest branch of a world tree. Blended nigh perfectly with the texture of the branch, the Lord’s mile-long tail slowly wrapped around its bed, gripping the branch tightly. The Lord then stepped off the tree, allowing himself the grace of a slow fall. Slender, yet as wide as a city street, he hung in front of the visitor like a spider on a single threaded web.

“Fine,” The Chameleon Lord said plainly, its voice forever young yet old, as age was just another thing to adapt to.

His hands pressed together, Leland squeezed, his heart beating like a drum. “Alright… shall I carry the information to him?”

The Lord of Chameleons raised one lanky arm and claw. It moved slowly, deliberately,twisting one of its bugged eyes around while the other remained locked on Leland. He eventually froze, his claw resting on his thick chin.

“Yes,” the Chameleon eventually said.

While Leland was sure he had only been in the Chameleon Lord’s domain for a few minutes, it felt like a lifetime. First of all, Leland had to find the Lord as invisibility was a staple of adaptation. If he hadn’t seen a bushel of leaves move, he’d still be wandering around the world tree’s trunk. Secondly, the world tree itself. It was huge, it was the sky while looking up, and that just didn’t make a good backdrop for conversation.

Yelling into the heavens was horrible on the throat.

And lastly, the local Lord spoke few words even after pondering a reply for a long while.

He saw no reason to lie to a Lord, especially a Lord who was the patron of one of his best friends. While he may have gotten an easier contract out of better bartering, it just wasn’t worth it in his eyes. Glenny needed guidance, and that was priceless.

“Nay,” the Lord of Chameleons eventually said.

“No?” Leland responded instantly. “You don’t want anything from me?”

The Lord loosened his tail’s grip on the branch, falling and landing with a mighty thud. Dust spun all around his lizard body, creating what some might call a miniature sandstorm. The dust, however, didn’t bother the Lord, not when he had long adapted to air-particulate.

“Not for one of mine,” the Lord said. “But for you, yes.”

Leland refrained from scratching his head. “You’ll help Glenny regardless of contract?”

He nodded, which took until a leaf fell from the lowest branch.

“But you still want to make a contract with me?”

Again, the Lord nodded, this time its right bulbous eye staring at something far on the horizon. “I offer perception.”

“Like the perception ability Glenny can use?” Leland asked.

“No.”

“Then—”

“Sight befitting a mage.”

Leland slowly nodded, or rather, he slowly bobbed his whole body. Standing before a being of monstrous size was one thing, having to communicate with it was another. A simple head nod was a much too small of a gesture for the Lord before him, so he made his whole body nod.

“What would you like in trade?”

“Adaptation.”

Leland almost frowned. “To what?”

“Calamitous fire.”

He answered instantly. “Never going to happen.”

The Chameleon Lord swiveled both of its massive eyes toward Leland. A pressure emitted through the air and toward the visitor, crushing him with the gall of those far, far, mightier.

Leland’s knees trembled, his spine wobbled and he suddenly saw reprieve in submission. Chameleons, in the wild, were predators to those much smaller to them. Bugs, ants, flies, and the like. What was a mortal to that of a Lord? Not even a germ.

Leland fell to his knees, his head bowed. For a moment, he thought the Lord of Curses was going to appear, smite down the Lord of Chameleons and bring him back to the mortal plane. Then, after his neck began to pop under the pressure, he realized he was alone in this. It was time for him to clean up his own battles.

“Soul Fire is a spell I vowed never to use without stipulation!” Leland yelled with every budding ounce of courage in his body. He forced his head up like a rusted gate, and locked eyes with the Chameleon Lord. “I cannot use the curse for something as lowly as greed! Contract or not!”

The Chameleon reared back, standing on his hindlegs like a bear just before a mauling. “Moments ago you offered anything for information.”

“No,” Leland choked out. “I offered anything for a friend! Soul Fire isn’t just anything! It’s pure destruction! Glenny would hate me forever if I used it as a bargaining chip!”

The pressure relented instantly, and the Chameleon lowered himself. “Good,” he said, flopping his head down onto his hands like they were a pillow.

“G-good?”

“A test. You passed.”

Leland internally cursed at himself. Of course it was a test.

“The Lord of Curses is a… friend. Partially,” the Chameleon Lord muttered not with a snarl, but rather something much tamer. Like a younger brother to the starlet sister.

“Thank you for not harming me,” Leland tried, not wanting to push the conversation but also wanting to finish the deal and leave.

The Lord seemingly read his mind, shifting the topic at hand. “Perception for completing the test.”

“…and Glenny?”

“Yes.”

The Chameleon opened his mouth just enough to allow a spec to float out. Its luster was captured and sealed from the harmony of the world tree, turning its flight invisible to someone like Leland. When it appeared before the mortal, he flinched back.

It was a shard, a small chunk of glass, likely from a mirror, yet was opaque. A fog was set over its reflection, blinding Leland from seeing the secrets of the Chameleon Legacy. He still took it, cautiously at that, wrapping it in a shred of cloth he suddenly had in hand. When did he get that? Leland shook his head, divine tricks at play, no doubt.

“I thank you, Lord of the Chameleon. And I’m sure Glenny will as well.”

The great being didn’t so much as grace Leland with words or a polite gesture, simply sending him back to the mortal realm via the white void.

As Leland hovered in the place between places, he wondered about Glenny and Harlen. There was little actual documentation about the Void, since it was, well, a void of nothingness. Which was one of Carmon’s concerns for Glenny and his attempts to conquer the Void. How do you conquer nothing?

Leland wasn’t one for philosophical debate, so his questions about the Void were much simpler. For one, just what was it? The Void, a void, yes, but why? Where? How? How was there a Lord of the Void? What did they do? Is there Void magic besides that of Legacies? Cantrips? Rituals? Was there any reason to research the Void other than curiosity?

And finally, was Leland in the Void now? Or were there two random white voids, one being the Void and the other being a void? He supposed Harlen might answer that one.

When Leland’s consciousness appeared back in his body, he didn’t fall asleep instantly. Not with a shard of glass from a Lord in his possession. He slowly placed it on the nightstand and sat up in bed.

One thing about staying in the royal campus that greatly differed from staying in inns, was that the boys needn’t share a room. He was alone, which was nice because he planned to experiment a bit.

Leland’s grimoire appeared from his tattoo, open to the page he wished to view.

Total Steps: 168.

He smiled at the words, noting that rapidly tapping himself with Touch of Regeneration was proving to only become more efficient as his stamina grew. Soon he’d be able to keep up with Glenny, let alone Jude, for marathon sprints. He almost smirked at the thought, finding it so unimaginable that if it was a week ago, he’d have thought himself crazy.

He flipped the page.

Cursed contract of the Lord of the Chameleon:

Use: Gain adaptive mage perception (sight, smell, and instinct) while this contract is active. Only one aspect of perception will be active at any one time. Chosen aspect will be the one most needed at any one moment.

Only usable once per hour.

Return: A test – completed.

Leland frowned at the description not because it wasn’t useful, but because it was confusing. “Most needed,” was completely subjective, which posed problems. Who decided which was needed? The Lord of Chameleons? Or himself? There was only one way to find out: he pressed his palm into the page, and activated the contract.

A stream of dim light and violet magic rose from the book’s page, twisting around Leland like snow around a campfire. The color and light moved independently, conjoining part way up his chest, fully morphing together by the top of his head. The finale form was a perfect ring that spit purple streaks of mist like ocean spray. It hung just above his head.

Instantly Leland noticed a difference in how he viewed the world. He could make out edges easier, see details from further, and gauge distance better. His eyes were the obvious perception being enhanced, the darkness all but a distant thought in the corners of the room.

He took a deep breath, trying to smell anything new. Nothing. He closed his eyes and tried again. His nose didn’t so much as sniffle – but he did flinch, his eyes shooting open. Danger was near.

They adapted to the darkness instantly, and the sense of danger drained away. If he wasn’t staring at a positively preening King Harlen, Leland would have thought about how enhanced instinct instantly fell away for better eyesight.

But the ghost took precedence.

“Ah, I knew there was something special about you,” the Priest of the Void, Harlen, said. “Who’d have thought someone your age would be practicing magic this late at night.”

Leland’s mind went instantly to the halo floating silently above his head. “This isn’t what it looks like.”