《The Soul Force Saga》3.26
Advertisement
When Connor’s wounds had fully healed and his soul force recovered he scrambled up from the floor and walked over to the wall where the construct had first appeared. He conjured more lights and in the bright glow spotted a circle on the floor engraved with faded runes. An outer ring filled with small runes surrounded a central circle filled with dozens more, all intertwined into a single pattern. Some of them he recognized from books he’d read about Alexious’s kingdom, others looked like runes used in summoning and binding demons, and still others—the majority, Connor reluctantly admitted to himself—he’d never laid eyes on before.
He shook his head, crouched down, and traced a rune that resembled a thorny vine twisted into a spiral. What did that one mean? Connor had believed himself knowledgeable when he set out on this quest, but every day he learned just how deep his ignorance and arrogance ran. He felt like a child playing at being a warlock when he studied Alexious’s mastery. How much more had the warlock king known than Connor and how much had he learned at the Horned One’s right hand? Whatever his deficiencies, Connor’s commitment to his path remained unwavering. He would succeed, whatever it took.
He paused in his tracing. A rune featuring a circle inside another circle connected by straight lines. He knew that one. It was a rune of opening. Connor bit his lip, then poured a wisp of energy into the rune, careful not to let any of his power spill over into the other markings.
The rune of opening drank in his power like a dry sponge. He kept the flow going until the rune would accept no more. The now-familiar vibration ran through the room. Black flames outlined a door in the wall which swung open at Connor’s approach. He sent his lights through the opening and followed behind.
Advertisement
His breath caught when he entered the room. The left- and right-hand walls were filled with niches, each of which held an artifact behind rune-etched glass. On the wall directly ahead hung a floor-length mirror of black glass. Connor’s distorted image stared back at him. In the center of the room a stone table sat empty.
This had to be the vault mentioned in the book he’d found in the pyramid. Connor’s impatient gaze flew around the room. The crystal had to be here somewhere. He passed over tomes of power that crackled with corrupt energy, rune-marked gems so sodden with power they made his little black diamond back home seem a pale thing. Skulls seemed to form the bulk of the collection, inhuman, warped things with overlong jaws, too many teeth, horns and bone spurs.
Connor had never understood the warlock fascination with collecting skulls. He had several of his own of course, but he’d never found any particular use for them, beyond decoration. He glanced over yet another skull, this one resembling a cross between a crocodile and a cobra.
The next niche held a midnight-blue crystal the size of his fist. It looked like such a mundane thing compared to the more exotic artifacts filling the vault. Connor ran a hand over the glass protecting the crystal.
After all his years of searching he’d found it at last, the soul bleed crystal, the key to his ascension. Connor slammed his fist into the glass. It didn’t so much as flex. He should have known it wouldn’t be so simple. He sent a focused blast of hellfire into the barrier.
The glass turned inky black then spat his power back at him magnified tenfold. Connor flew across the vault and slammed into the wall. The room spun and when he reached around and touched his head Connor found thick, black blood. He scrambled to his feet, healing the minor injury as he went.
Advertisement
Connor hadn’t come this far just to let a sheet of glass stand between him and his prize. He considered blasting it again, then rubbed the healed wound. Maybe a more subtle approach. He studied the runes cut into the glass. It seemed runes were always the key. Maybe he could find another rune of opening.
Five minutes of searching later Connor found it, or rather he found a perfectly round opening in the pattern where the rune should have been. He punched the glass with no more success than the first time. There had to be a secret, something he’d missed.
Connor abandoned the sealed niche and paced the room as he thought. What was it? What wasn’t he seeing? He paused when he passed in front of the mirror for the twentieth time. His reflection looked strange. He raised his hand and the reflection followed, but with a lag.
Frowning, Connor moved closer to the mirror. The closer he got the more distorted his reflection became. When he met his reflected gaze the eyes in the mirror were black and hollow instead of red and glowing.
“Who are you?”
His reflection smiled even though Connor’s expression hadn’t changed. “Took you long enough to notice. Even the paladin noticed me faster than you.”
The spirit shook its head. “Sad what’s become of the new generation of warlocks. In King Alexious’s day you wouldn’t have even qualified to serve as his court jester.”
Connor clenched his fist and glared at the spirit.
“What, are you going to try punching the mirror? That worked out so well for you the first two times you tried it with the barrier glass.”
Connor took a breath and found his center. His shoulders relaxed and he unclenched his fist. “Tell me, spirit, how do I open the niches and retrieve the item I desire?”
The spirit shook its head again. “You really are an idiot. You need the key.”
“Where might I find the key?” Connor asked with exaggerated patience.
“That bitch took it with her when she forced her way past the guardian. She’s hiding out up in the throne room. Hey, how did you get past her barrier?”
“It only keeps out demons. I’ve still got enough mortal in me to slip through.”
“Tell you what. You kill the paladin and fetch the key back here and I’ll let you talk to the master.”
“The Horned One?” Connor hardly believed his good fortune. The demon lord hadn’t spoken to Connor since he made his pact twelve years ago.
“No, stupid, not The Master. Master Alexious.”
Connor slumped for a moment then brightened. It would still be a great honor to speak with King Alexious. “Very well. I’ll return with the key and the paladin’s head.”
Advertisement
- In Serial272 Chapters
12 Miles Below
The world is in ruins. Extreme sub-zero temperatures suffocate the surface, making even simple survival an ordeal. Frozen derelicts of bygone eras span across massive ice wastes. And the elite few hoard any technology rediscovered within. The only escape from the deadly climate is beneath the surface. But it’s another disaster underground. Monstrous machines lurk in the depths. Unhinged demigods war against them, dying over and over, treating it all like a game. The land itself shifts over time, more contraption than rock. And an ominous prophecy states that the key to everything waits at the last level - but nobody’s ever reached that far. When an expedition into the far uncharted north goes terribly wrong, Keith Winterscar and his father get trapped together in a desperate fight for survival. Stumbling upon an ancient power struggle of titanic scale; the two will need to set their differences aside while they struggle against Gods, legends, and the grand secrets of the realm that lies below. Updating Monday and Thursdays. Discord can be found here (This is a shared discord server with other books.)WARNING: This series is ridiculously filled with spoilers, every book has multiple reveals. One of the main draws of the series is to figure out why things are the way they are, and then slowly start narrowing down your own theories until the reveals hit. Discord was made for up-to-date readers since there's no way to really police spoilers. Don't join until you're current!!
8 261 - In Serial62 Chapters
DOPEMAN
In 2082, the world ended. The world was engulfed by the flames of nuclear war. That doesn't mean anything to the almighty Dopeman! He survived then, he'll survive now! The Dopeman is a legendary courier, they say. He will deliver any package, anywhere across the destroyed landscapes of America! However, it seems this famous figure has a strange past, Especially when he's tasked to supply a war he doesn't care about...
8 167 - In Serial17 Chapters
The King of Snipers
The story of a man who uses a slingshot to fight monsters and dragons in other worlds. The art is not mine
8 207 - In Serial22 Chapters
Short River Songs
This shall be a place to post my shorter tales and poemsWriting prompts from forum threads, or maybe little tomesWhen you’re done here, please check out my fiction, “Hero’s Song”For a novel, it’s quite short, but for a poem, quite long
8 96 - In Serial13 Chapters
The wonderful and terrifying world in Mason’s mind
Watch as Mason goes on a quest to destroy everything only to destroy himself.
8 176 - In Serial37 Chapters
The King's Queen
#7 in vampire #1 in queenThe world has gotten boring to him after living for many centuries, through many generations. He thought of it as a curse. His gift was anything but a gift, in his opinion. He loved killing people. He always has. He enjoyed seeing the life being drained out of them, quite literally. He always drank every last drop of their life essence, he didn't have mercy. Though he was the king there was something he could never have unlike others of his kind. A soulmate. He hadn't been turned or born from vampire parents. No, he was born a monster from human parents. The first of his kind. Why he was born like it, he didn't know. He didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted to die already, since he had no mate to look forward to. He lived because he couldn't die, at least not physically. He had no reason to live, but many reasons to die and even though he tried many times by many methods, none of them suceeded. He staked himself, on multiple occasions. It felt like a needle piercing his skin. He hung himself. He didn't die, but he hung there, very much conscious.He went on the gillotine. It made his body dissapear and reappear in the same spot he was born in. He took his heart out. He grew one back. He bled out. His blood regenerated. He used silver stakes. They burned his flesh. He overdosed. It did nothing since drugs, alcohol and other dangerous things do absolutely nothing to him, except get him under the influence to a certain level. But none of them filled the emptiness in his heart. He just needed her. But all he got were unimportant girls he used and forgot about. He never felt anything for them. He couldn't. But then on that day while he was walking around a small town's forest, he felt the emptiness slowly being filled up a bit. He stood there in shock. He couldn't believe it. He almost cried of happiness, right then and there.He had her. He had a mate. His mate. His one and only mate. His Queen.
8 141

