Chapter 015: Penance and Redemption

We assembled in the ritual room next morning and checked if everything was in order. The candles were much shorter than when we began, but there was enough for one summoning. Maybe two, if it went smoothly.

This time it was only me, Simea and Lena. Vaera was useless, so he remained in his quarters while Leria decided that training was a better way to spend her time. She had become one big bundle of determination, morality and religious fervour—in short, kinda terrifying.

We began the ritual. I sent a spike tainted with Lena‘s magic. Maybe three seconds later, I knew something went wrong. Magic - the evil kind - poured out of the growing breach.

Oh, for God‘s sake, not again!

After a few more seconds, I already knew that it wasn‘t even remotely as bad as it was last time. So I continued the ritual. The breach also didn‘t go self-sufficient, so it looked promising.

After maybe twenty seconds something materialized in the breach.

Infant Shadowlurker

Familiar of Lena Simeon

Category: Black/Death

Type: Daemon/Servile Daemon

Threat Grade: Iron V

A newly born shadowlurker hailing from Evernight, a realm of Shadow, Imperial Goddess of Revolution and Anarchy. Shadowlurkers, born from remnants of Malice, Imperial God of Madness, carried over bits of his hatred and madness. In battle, they are a combination between heavy warriors and living psychological weapons.

Known spells and hexes:

Rend

Dreadful Howl

Shadowblink

Suppress Presence

It was a child. Maybe eight years old, guessing from the size and posture. It was completely naked, its skin pale as snow. It would have been creepy or squicky if not for the fact it lacked genitals, was almost perfectly androgynous, and was inhuman. The mouth was too wide, armed with short but sharp teeth (making look like a human piranha), deeply embedded eyes with red irises and pitch black sclera, and disproportionately long arms that, rather than ending in razor sharp talons, had razor sharp fingers.

Actually, I take that back. It was creepy. Just differently.

It looked at Lena, then babbled something I couldn’t understand.

I began to think it might have something to do with using this ancient ritual site. I never was deeply into magic in World‘s Requiem, but now that I thought about it, I think the ancient summonings might distort the reality here, making stronger things visit more probable.

“Em... master? Should I do something?” Lena didn‘t take her eyes off the ‘child’ inside the pentagon.

“That... well, it’s Iron V so it shouldn‘t kill you if you use aura. Try to... I don‘t know, pat its head or something?”

She covered herself with Aura Armour and extended her arm towards it.

The Shadowlurker lunged forward with great speed the second her hand got close, and latched onto it with its mouth. Lena almost grabbed her sword with the other hand before she noticed that there was no further attack.

The ‘baby’ stood there with her hand in its mouth, making slow moves with its jaws. It tried to chew on it but it couldn‘t get through Aura Armour. Lena raised her hand up, and the child went up together with it. It hung there, its arms hanging idly be its side, still trying to chew on Lena’s hand.

“It’s... kinda cute.” Lena commented, her voice filled with disbelief. Then she waved her hand left and right, making the child swing in the air like some strange form of pendulum.

… Ok, that really was something I would rather expect to see in some comedy anime.

“It isn‘t using hexes, so I think it‘s just playing.” Finally I said something. It really wasn‘t easy since merely seconds earlier I thought as if something stole my tongue. “Or it’s hungry.”

After a moment of doubts, Lena used her other hand to pat the head of the ‘child’. It closed its eyes and made something resembling a murmur. While still being firmly latched on her hand and hanging in the air.

I canceled the ritual.

“Simea, be so kind and go to the kitchen for me." She took her eyes off the strange spectacle and looked at me. “Bring the biggest chunk of raw meat you find."

***

Some time later we all - including Leria and Vaera - sat in the mess hall, watching a funny scene unfolding. Lena sat on the chair. Before her sat her familiar, in a position looking similar to how dogs sat. Every few seconds Lena took another piece of beef from the pile on the table beside her and threw it, with her familiar making almost impossible jumps to catch them mid-flight and devour, with a look of bliss on its face.

I had to agree with her. This looked cute. In a way. Especially after we forced it to wear improvised clothing, made from several pieces of cultist robes sewn together. It was the stereotypical ghost disguise from animated films... but it made watching it feel less criminal.

“So… what is it?” Leria looked at me. “Aside from the fact that it is a daemon. I know that much.”

“Infant form of Shadowlurker. A daemon of Shadow, Imperial God... or Goddess... uh, it‘s complicated. His or her domains are Anarchy, Revolution, Freedom and Night.” I shrugged. “Don’t ask me how she got it. Summoning is random, and she got a weird draw.”

“Weird?” Leria kept her interrogation.

“Well, all of our familiars are... basic. Spirits, in other words. It means they can evolve alongside us.” Oh, I think I‘ve made a mistake. “Nevermind, your familiar is already aligned to the purity of Bravery, so its evolving ability is limited. But since it was a god that picked it for you, I believe it is a great fit. Now, Simea‘s familiar can evolve into pretty much every daemon connected to Deviation. Mine can evolve into... who knows what. Lena’s familiar, however, is a Shadowlurker. Rather than being a malleable spirit it is an already formed daemon. In it‘s infant form, but still.”

“You... are babbling incoherently, you know?”

“Sorry, too many surprising things in a short sequence. I go like that if that happens.” I took a deep breath. ”So, her daemon will be always a Shadowlurker. It can only grow into stronger stages. Your familiar is similar, though the purity of Bravery has more than one type of daemon. Simea’s in the same time can become pretty much every servile daemon of Deviation, while mine is God knows what.”

“Better.” Leria nodded approvingly. “Now, what does it being a Shadowlurker means for us?”

“You know you act like real siblings?” Vaera commented sarcastically. We ignored him.

“Well, for now it means that Lena has something between a child and pet.” I scratched my head. “It might look innocent but it would murder a Blackwood Hexcaster in single combat. Not to mention being more than capable of slaughtering ten to twenty undead miners from Descent. At ease.”

“Sounds useful.” This time it was Simea that spoke. “Can it grow very strong?”

“Let me put it simply.” I looked at her. “This is an infant. As in - young child. If it was human it would be maybe… twenty seconds old? It‘s probably right after the daemonic version of cutting the umbilical cord. Despite this it could already slay a Hexcaster. You get what I am trying to say?”

“I see. And how strong might it be after it evolves completely?” Leria seemed very interested in details.

“Strong. As in high Adamantine or low Black Gold strong.” For the first time in a while I saw her shocked. “Don’t get your hopes up, chances for it to evolve into a Primeval Shadowlurker are pretty much nonexistent. Though if it happened, it would easily murder half of the Dragonspine Mountains single-handedly.”

Well, to be honest, all of our familiars could evolve into beings of such power. Maybe besides my own, since it was an enigma and I had pretty much no knowledge about it. Chances for it were pretty much as high as for winning a lottery, though. Still, Shadow-aligned spirits contracted with mortals very rarely evolved into Shadowlurkers, so it was a rather surprising outcome.

Lena‘s sudden gesture drew our attention. This time she threw something with aura empowering her throw. The object flew with great speed while the Shadowlurker leaped after it. In a split second it jumped at the nearest table, using it to propel itself towards the projectile. It wasn‘t enough. The food hit the wall, and a second later the familiar lept at it from a nearby table with great strength. It twisted its body mid-flight to land on the wall and grab the object with its mouth before gravity won, pulling it down. Despite this, it still landed almost gracefully.

“W…wow.” Vaera said what we all thought.

The Shadowlurker returned to us... with a large bone in its mouth. It walked all the way to Lena before spitting it back on the ground before her. If it was a dog it tail would wag its tail like crazy.

“For real?” I laughed. “You are teaching it to retrieve stuff?” Everyone in the room joined the laughter. Lena responded with a wide smile.

***

I had another break. Once again it was interrupted by Leria. This time, however, she looked… strange.

“I need to ask you something.” She spoke without ceremony. She seemed... troubled.

“O…kay?” I rose on my bed and sit on its edge. “What is it?”

“I need religious guidance.” SAY WHAT? “Becoming a Chosen One does not mean I became proficient in the theology of Overtyrant‘s faith.”

“Khardism.” I interrupted her. “It‘s called khardism. After the name of the kingdom founded by the Prophetess. Unless something changed from the last game.”

“Nothing changed.” Huh? ”I know that from the Revelation.” She even knew the official name for the ‘procedure' of becoming a Chosen One. It was the only occasion for believers to meet their gods in person. Well, not precisely in person in the case of Overtyrant, but the general outline was the same. I guess that considering the way it worked, her random knowledge wasn’t surprising. It was like getting sprayed by concentrated knowledge. Only a fraction of it hit her and remained there.

What scared me much more was that the Overtyrant somehow knew about earlier games. Just... how much knowledge had DFI programmed into local gods? Or maybe... it was all real?

Robinson would consider it the greatest compliment he ever received. For someone to mistake his game for reality.

“So it‘s khardism.” I shrugged. “Though don‘t ask me where Gates’ version of the Holy Kingdom of Khard is. What do you want to know? Before you ask, do not expect me to describe you their rituals in details, as I only had a brief contact with them. Find a priest for it."

“I know, I know. Just general teachings.”

I pointed to a chair. “Ok, I guess I can do that.” I scratched my head. ”Well, Overtyrant created the world. No one knows precisely why; the main theory is that he did it so that his children have a place to grow. Then it‘s all evolution until certain beings grew complex enough to resonate the Overtyrant‘s ‘corruption’. Namely, sapience, empathy and conscience. In that order. This influence is called Symphony. Uhm…”

Damn, it was a while.

“Give me a second to think... oh, right. So it‘s another timeskip until there was a certain hyper-violent civilization... one belonging to beastmen, by the way.“ They ranged from stereotypical cat-eared people to anthropomorphized animals, and made the average mountain elf look peaceful and civilized. Too bad she wouldn‘t know why I thought that murderous and cannibalistic catgirls were a funny concept. "They worshipped various Aberrants—which is a professional term for overlords of Beyond. Plus ancestor worship, human sacrifices, ritual cannibalism, genocides, slavery, and so on. Like the Dragonspine Mountains, only worse. You still with me?” She nodded. She was focused, keeping her eyes on me without the shortest break.

If all students were like that… ok, without the BURN THE HERETICS approach.

“Then we have the Prophetess. According to tradition an elder catwoman who lived through her own share of abuse, during which she had an occasion to see both the way other beastmen lived and how the world outside looked. After this, she hid somewhere in the endless forests, swamps, and jungles of her homeland and saw ‘things’. At first she thought she was going crazy, but then she understood that some ‘being’ was contacting her. She wrote the holy books of Khardism based on her own version of Revelation. Only it was much longer and more detailed. Since other members of her tribes weren‘t the smartest people around, she kept it rather basic and easy to understand. For example, the name Overtyrant is a bastardized version of The One Above Tyrants. He never introduced himself properly. Tyrant was the name she gave to old gods of their people. The new religion that offered her kin something other than perpetual misery and slavery to their gods turned out to be what they wanted and spread like wildfire. No wonder, really.”

I mean, you had to be a literal idiot to worship things like that. It was the chief reason I enjoyed DFI games. They went to a great length to justify people worshipping evil beings rather than just making people arbitrarily evil and giving them a taste for edgy aesthetics. Beastmen followed Tyrants because they were slaves to them, living in complete ignorance of the world around their desolate land,

“Now, the entire religion is based on a concept of Harmony, which is both an afterlife and a certain state of a mortal’s soul when you are perfectly united with Symphony. If you are free of impurities when you die, your soul achieves Harmony. If you aren‘t pure, but you strove for self improvement, Overtyrant reincarnates you in a new body to try again. If you have many impurities you felt comfortable with and made no attempts to improve yourself or have committed an anathema… you are considered a false note in Symphony and cast aside, bound to end up like the thralls we saw in your mother‘s realm. No Harmony for you."

“What are impurities?” She decided to ask a question.

“The holy number of Overtyrant is 17, because there are 17 pairs of purities and impurities that can sum up the moral teachings of Khardism.” Now, to remember the details... uh. “Firstly, there are Seven Primeval Virtues and Sins. Wrath and Patience, Greed and Generosity, Envy and Kindness, Lust and Chastity, Gluttony and Temperance, Pride and Humility and, finally, Sloth and Diligence. You avoid the first ones, you strive for the latter. They are called Primeval because the rest of purities and impurities has their cause in them. Then we have Seven Disharmonies and Harmonies. Selfishness and Altruism, Dishonesty and Honesty, Injustice and Justice, Betrayal and Loyalty, Inhospitality and Hospitality... and, finally, Cowardice and Bravery. Every purity has its own hierarchy of servile daemons. Your familiar originates from purity of Bravery.” She nodded.

“And every impurity has its own hierarchy as well?”

“Yes. But they are evil ones. Making troubles and so on.” Every religion had bad guys. Evil daemons would be there regardless; making them part of the religion at least kept the stuff organized. ”Committing any of the Disharmonies is equal to being denied Harmony if you die without repenting and achieving corresponding purity, but you still get reincarnated. The final three pairs are called Pillars and Anathemas. Committing an anathema is automatic excommunication from all religious organizations of Overtyrant. You commit them and die, Overtyrant casts you away from Symphony forever. These three pairs are Unbelief and Belief, Dishonor and Honor, and, finally, Tolerance and Zealotry.” I nodded seeing her face. “Yes. Tolerance against evil is a grave sin in Khardism. The same as atheism or religious indifference and breaking an oath. Because of the approach to tolerance, all sinners are considered a fair game for believers of Overtyrant. This includes those guilty of impurities if they are not repentant. Got it?” She nodded fervently.

Damn. She was already radical. If she starts enforcing Khardic rules in the Hold...

“That doesn‘t mean that if your ruler is a tyrant, then you and all other subjects are supposed to rise against him or make an assassination attempt or they go to hell." That would make it a stupid religion and DFI disliked stupid religions. ”Every person has to resist as far as possible. Courtiers are to scheme against him, soldiers are to desert, common people are to keep teaching their children that their ruler is a tyrant. If one hears about an uprise or a scheme that sounds like something that can succeed, then he is bound to help them. Also, Overtyrant accepts commiting Disharmonies or indulging in Primeval Sins in a fight against greater evil… but not commiting Anathemas. Questions?”

She thought for a second.

“Not now, but if something comes to my mind, I will come and ask.” She stood up from the chair and walked towards the door. Right before it she once again turned towards me. “Uhm... thank you, Av. I... I know you are not my brother, but... you aren‘t that much different from him, you know?” She was either ashamed, or just felt awkward saying this, judging from her face.

“Aside from not being a cultist of Pentagram bound to suffer a rather sad fate after death.” It wasn‘t the most proper thing to say to her. But that‘s something I thought about only after saying it.

“Yes. Aside from that.”

I knew what she thought about. That her brother would spend eternity as yet another nameless thrall of beings like Shearazhyra. That was debatable to be honest. If I woke up in his body after the gateway into Beyond swallowed him, then it was the most probable outcome. But it happened earlier. Did I pushed him out, or was he still in the body?

I decided to not tell her the the worst part. Thralls of her mother were actually unbelievably lucky. Becoming a plaything of a sadist daemon for all eternity wasn‘t the worst that could happen to a Pentagram cultist. It bordered on a happy end for them.

DFI lore connected ‘normal’ insanity and mental disorders to dysfunctions in brains. Hardware problems in short. The moment a soul abandoned the shackles of imperfect flesh it no longer had problems like that. Such thralls couldn‘t die or go insane, forced to exist in a state of perpetual misery for as long as their owner wished. But... there were moments of respite, even if short and rare.

Insanity brought by Beyond (and Pentagram) distorted souls themselves. Shearazhyra was very weak in that matter because of how human she was. Her ‘mansion’, however abhorrent, was an island of normalcy in Beyond. The average Pentagram worshippers ended forever trapped in a nightmarish dimension existing outside their cognitive abilities, its sheer effect changing them into eternally screaming human batteries, charging the Pentagram-held part of Beyond with even more misery, pain, madness and self-destructive tendencies that Pentagram thrived upon.

Jesus, I can‘t believe I’m thinking for real about stuff like that. Souls in a computer program?! The issue of afterlife?! Fucking DFI. Fucking Gates of Eternity. Fucking Infinity. Fucking Founding Fathers.

There was a red line dividing humans and humanlike programs... but that bastard Robinson must have scraped it off since I couldn‘t find it, no matter how hard I looked for it.

***

I woke up the next day… because of somebody banging at my door. Again.

Fuck it, from now on I will close door between the main corridor and the study. I can‘t get enough sleep. Or even simple rest. I will definitely invest money in a magical doorbell. Otherwise they will ruin all doors in my quarters.

I quickly donned my robe and opened the door. Vaera.

“The fuck are you… "

“Come. You have to see this.” I didn‘t like the sound of this.

***

He led me to the corridor leading to the ritual room. I could see Leria looking at me from the end, her face hard to decrypt. Kytar, with his pickaxe lying beside him, whispered something to Lena.

What the…

Ah. I must pay Kytar for working overtime. He unearthed the collapsed passage beside the ritual room. Rather primitively, since it was still partially collapsed.

“Go inside.” Leria spoke when we got closer. Kytar and Lena stopped talking and looked at me, waiting for something. “You‘ve got to see this.”

Did they found the way down? Or is this all the weird start to a surprise party?

I walked through the narrow passage. On the other side was a room.

Large. Square. With three sets of stone platforms in the middle. They were beds. Not a simple one, judging from the rusted chains built within them to help immobilize people lying atop them. Beside each of them was what looked like a control panel. Large, with the glass pane atop them, like computer monitors.

Then I noticed that the there was something on the monitors.

“What... how is it powered up?!” I looked around the room with disbelief. I switched on Sense Magic. “Ah... I see. It‘s a high level enchantment. There are small mana crystals inside the walls. Enchanted to gather mana from the air and refill the central energy storage. Large mana crystal beneath the floor. Marvelous.”

Making such an installation was costly. Very costly. Tens of thousands ambries, at least. The mana crystal beneath the floor was worth ten or twenty thousands alone, due to how massive it was. The end, however, was a magical version of a perpetuum mobile that could work for thousands of years, drawing power literally from air.

“I once saw something like that..” Leria entered the room behind me. She pointed at the beds. ”When Ramshiran sent me to pick up his fucktoy from some hyperwealthy slave trader. That guy was quite... amiable, and very bored. He gave us a tour through the facilities. In one room there was a special magitek installation made to mentally condition slaves using powerful mind magic. With it, as he bragged around, you could easily make a person think he is a dog. Make him think and act like a dog. There were many potential mental sculpts, used to satisfy the most demanding clientele. The beds and control panels looked similar."

“Are you telling me that DFI made brainwashing into a crafting discipline? With its own dedicated crafting station?” I chortled. “That‘s impossible. Completely impossible. Even madness must have its limits. This isn‘t happening.”

“It was immensely costly. Only the wealthiest people in the Dragonspine Mountains can have both such installations and self-refilling enchantments.” She kept speaking, her voice almost dead. “There was a single bed there. And the list of mental sculpts was a few times smaller.”

I looked at her, practically begging her to tell me all of it was a sick joke. Then I looked at Vaera who emerged from the collapse behind her. He simply shook his head. I returned my gaze to Leria.

“I think we now know what this place was once used for." She spoke again, her dead eyes making her look like a fish taken out of water. “We unearthed a weapon. One morally terrible... but also powerful." She laughed bitterly. “Not exactly what I expected when I prayed to Overtyrant for guidance and help in prosecuting war against His enemies.”

What? Why does she brings Overtyrant into it? I doubt it works like that.

“Why…” I wanted to ask her, but instead she pointed at the farthest wall from the entrance. It was dark, I could barely…

My heart almost stopped when I saw the relief. It was large, covering most of the wall, but badly weathered by flow of time.

A heptagonal eye with a vertical pupil. Symbol of Overtyrant.

I was still recoiling in shock when she pointed above her. Above the entrance. There was a large writing there. Partially destroyed by the passage of time and the collapse of the tunnel. It must have been ancient... but it was the same language spoken in Ambryxis. Used in all the books I read in my free time. The letters changed, which is why I required a while to read it.

Hall of Penance and Redemption.

Puzzles fell into place.

An ancient sect dedicated to Overtyrant. That worked to purge a Doomplace using… morally unhealthy methods. Taking some of the worst from its enemies prisoner and breaking their minds, selling them to finance their righteous crusade... and to punish them in a truly karmic way.

Tyrant‘s Hold. Was it that hard to keep the full name?