It was a little disappointing, but ultimately I decided that heading back to the arachnids was something I wouldn’t be able to do during the beta. As annoying as it was, I simply didn’t have the time to ingratiate and integrate into an entirely different form of society, not if I wanted to be able to complete the quest around the Soul Prison. And the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that the quest around it was special, maybe even something unique to the beta itself. A unique, almost impossible, challenge, to complete or fail, especially after realising that the Soul Prison was one of the things that was impossible to record. It simply didn’t appear when I accessed the recordings, creating strange images when I had placed something atop of it, to see what would happen. The image of a floating Icicle wasn’t as strange as it might be in a world without magic, but knowing that I had placed the icicle on the Soul Prison, only for it to disappear far quicker than it should have, was quite strange. And with that, the Soul Prison, and the quest surrounding it, remained my personal focus. If freeing a godlike being wasn’t an achievement worthy of a reward from Pantheon, I didn’t know what was.

In a game that was all about player-freedom in a fantastic, yet realistic, world, it would create excellent publicity-material if they could highlight how the actions of a player, or maybe a few players, during the beta had changed the course of history on Mundus, introducing certain events for the future that were caused by those players. Maybe even integrate the characters themselves into the world of Mundus in some way, though hopefully not in a way that would prevent me from seeing Sigmir again.

But all that was mere speculation and ultimately meaningless. I had planned out a course of action, which hopefully would lead to the desired results but I simply couldn’t know whether it would or not. If it failed, I would have to find another way, though I had no real idea what that way might be. Not unless I counted that ridiculous idea of sneaking into the Pantheon Entertainment Data-Center, hacking into their computers and rescuing Sigmir that way, as amusing as the fantasy was.

While I didn’t tell the others just what I had seen, I gave them a rough idea, telling them how I had watched a group of Travellers assault one of the local monster-lairs. Sigmir got the full story, while cuddled up to her, simply because I didn’t enjoy keeping secrets from her. On the other hand, Olivia’s loyalty was still a little suspect, with her faith keeping me from fully trusting her, even with the oath she had sworn shortly after meeting. Could an oath sworn in the name of a deity keep her from divulging information to that deity, if she felt it was important for her deity to know? Could the deity absolve her for breaking the oath? Without any sort of reference-frame for divine accountability, it was a strange, yet very interesting, question and I had no idea how to answer it.

Which meant, I kept Olivia in the dark regarding my more interesting ideas and plans, especially regarding the plan to free the being imprisoned in the Soul Prison, or my possession of said prison. Another thing I didn’t plan to share with Olivia was a surprising result of the conversation with Sigmir, and more specifically, Ylva.

“I need your help.” Ylva told me, when we were a little apart from the others, using the wolves’ language that I could only understand thanks to my bond with Lenore.

“What can I do?” I asked in response, not even considering if I wanted to help.

“I’m not sure, that’s the problem. When I crossed the first divide, it was with your help and a dose of divine blood. I have no idea how I can continue on the path I have thus embarked on, or where that path might lead.” she admitted, sounding dejected. “But I know that I need to continue forward, unless I want to fall further behind and become a burden to Sigmir, making her unable to protect Lenore and you.” she continued, her ears and tail drooping. She looked plainly miserable, making me want to pet her, as inappropriate as it might be.

Sadly, I had no idea if I could do anything to help her. While I had improved my Blood Magic since then, I hadn’t made any qualitative leaps, even crossing the second Divide hadn’t given me any significant bonus to that particular skill. If anything, the inclusion of Ice-Magic in all my spells and Death-Magic in all spells cast together with Lenore might have decreased my ability to use supportive Blood Magic. I was about to tell her that, when Lenore pushed a thought into my mind.

“Don’t you and Sigmir share some blood-connection with Ylva? I think that old Silverpelt mentioned something like that, back when we met.” she asked, making me think furiously. She was right, that the wolf she called old Silverpelt, the Alpha of Ylva’s former pack, had said something like that, alluding to the myth that Firn-Elves had been created by Loki and that Sigmir, as a Giantblood, could apparently trace her lineage back to him as well. Or maybe to his wife, I wasn’t quite sure on the matter, it was too steeped in legend and myth to give any factual, usable information.

But the idea might have merit and it was an audacious one. Just the thought, to somehow draw on the divine Blood we all shared to strengthen Ylva, to manipulate the divinity sleeping within each of us? I had wondered if there was another way to lay claim to divine fame on the level that Pantheon couldn’t ignore it and this might be it.

“Audacious.” I admitted, both out loud and over my mental connection to Lenore, both amazed and amused. “There might be a way, as Lenore just suggested.” I told the slightly confused Ylva. Once more, my mind amused me to no end. The idea, as I understood it at this point, would place intense pain and suffering on all three of us, Ylva, Sigmir and myself. While I didn’t relish the idea of suffering the pain of Blood Magic myself, there was a reason I only used it when absolutely necessary, and I could accept that Ylva would have to endure if she wanted to get stronger, I was hardly able to stand the idea of Sigmir suffering alongside me. The only thing making it somewhat palpable was that I knew she would feel guilty if I excluded her and took the pain on myself. If that would even be possible.

“I’ll have to think Lenore’s idea through some more and talk with Sigmir and you about it. For now, just know that there might be a way, but it will require a certain level of dedication from you, from me and from Sigmir.” I explained, not wanting to give more information out loud, not while the others might just be in earshot. It was difficult to estimate just how far sound might carry, who might be listening, especially when it came to people with high Intuition. I had noticed it in myself, that my senses were intensely tied to my focus, or rather, that my subconscious mind automatically filtered what my senses took in, with me only becoming conscious of a small fraction of the whole, namely what I was focusing on.

To make matters worse, I had to remain vigilant of others being able to use magical constructs to scry and spy, just like I could. The Arachnids had shown that it, as I should have expected, wasn’t something unique to me and that they could be quite sneaky with it. I would have to work together with Lenore, who was flying somewhere above me, to make some sort of barrier woven from Wind and Darkness, to conceal us, muffle sounds and hopefully prevent magic from entering it.

Just that idea, how to conceal a conversation from outsiders and the possible means that could be used to spy on others kept Lenore and me busy for most of the day, without giving the idea of using Blood Magic to empower Ylva another thought. Some of the ideas we exchanged were of questionable plausibility, for example I had no idea if Mind Magic could actually be used to read minds, and if so, to what level, or if there was some sort of limitation. Or what the other elements could use to scry on others, I knew about Dura Firebringer’s constructs, I had read the Water Mirror spell in the Grandmother’s Grimoire and had created my own version of that, using shadows. But there were so many more ways, was it possible to trace vibrations through the ground? At that point, we most likely were merely trading hypotheticals and being paranoid, but just the seemingly plausible ideas were fascinating and scary. Magic truly was fascinating.