“I hope for all our sakes that we never live to see corruption as great as Zarconium’s rise again in this world.”

Baryana of Fairdawn

“I swore an of honesty! Zara’s a ! What more do you need?” Bim shouted exasperatedly, before Zara held a finger to her lips, pointing at the ceiling above, at which he blushed and fell silent.

“It just sounds like a fever dream, even with the crazy and Talents I’ve seen in mind.” Greg said in a faintly patronizing tone.

“I… I don’t want to believe.” Helena said, seeming lost. “I don’t want to, but… Zara, if you can pull that trick again, and bring me into your trance, then I’d like you to show me what Bim saw. Show me if it’s true.”

With a solemn sigh, Zara took her hand.

As Helena and Zara sat across from one another, eyes closed, a faint green light encompassing them both, Greg looked to Bim seriously. “I hope, for all our sakes, that it was just a misinterpretation, or a flawed vision, or a flawed Talent even. But… what you describe seeing, it makes a troubling amount of sense.”

Helena looked up, and met the eyes of a great warrior, ten feet tall, looking down on her. His eyes shone with crimson fire, and his flesh glowed from within with a divine golden light.

“The boy is your friend, yes? We granted him power, and before the Warden gained such a tangled Class, we granted her power too. We granted you your Class, and sculpted and carved out your Talents. Take my hand, and I can give you power untold.”

Helena looked upward at the being in front of her. “Are you… Are you an Archon? How could Bim say anything is broken? You’re… glorious.”

The Archon smiled, and his teeth gleamed, and his joy was like the rise of a second sun. “Become my champion, then, scion of the hunt. You are the lowest leveled of your peers, the least respected. Take my hand, and I will make you anew.”

Zara looked panicked, but the Archon was prepared, and brushed her aside, reaching out a hand toward Helena.

How… How could something so divine be corrupt?

She took his hand, and shone with blinding light.

Level 20 granted!

Class Advancement unlocked!

🠊 Level 20!

Level 24 granted!

Talent Advancement/Merge unlocked!

+ + =

Talent Advancement/Merge unlocked!

+ =

Zara finally managed to shift the Archon over an inch and grab ahold of Helena’s hand again, and then--

“By the Land and Sky, what did you DO?!” Zara roared, eyes snapping open.

Helena, dazed from snapping back into her body, stumbled up and away in fear and confusion, which quickly turned to rage. “What I did was stand in the presence of an Archon, a real Archon, and he gave me a divine blessing! Five levels, and two new Talents, all in a moment. If you hadn’t pulled me away, I’m sure I would’ve gotten even more! What are we even doing, going up against the King-- I killed the Storm Eater Mage, and I thought it was the right thing to do, but--”

“It’s a poisoned apple, Helena.” Bim said, cutting in, tone dark. “They shove levels down your throat to keep you complacent. It’s corruption on a worldwide scale. I’ve seen their true forms-- when they didn’t have time to prepare and put up a facade. They aren’t divine or blessed or worthy of worship, they’re just overgrown, bloated tyrant creatures, without a drop of kindness, generosity, or honor in any of them. Zara’s protected at least-- I don’t know about me and Greg. Can they take back levels? I’ve heard of such things before, but only in distant rumors. We don’t know how much control they have, and giving them more just because they put on a pretty face just lets their fangs sink deeper in.”

“So what?” Helena said, teeth gritted, looking pained and sad and enraged all at once. “What do I do-- give up my levels? Give up everything I’ve worked for since I was old enough to walk?”

“Is that even possible?” Greg asked, looking to Zara, who had calmed down some.

“I believe so. But… I could feel the class as it was granted on the Spirit Plane. She’s an now. I’ve never heard of a Class like that before, but I can’t imagine that kind of bond would be easy to break.”

“Even if the Archons are corrupt-- which I still struggle to believe-- they can’t take back Classes and levels they give, right? I have to break the tenants of my Class to do so. Although with a Class descriptor like , I imagine betraying the Archons would count. I can still work against Stillbottums, though. He’s our enemy, not the bleeding Archons, after all.”

Bim looked grim. “I’m starting to think the line between the two isn’t nearly as clear as you’d like.”

🟌

Prinner Wilholm sat on a rickety wooden chair, sharpening the edge of his blade with a whetstone, as the rain drizzled down outside.

“You can’t just kill everyone who displeases you.” Tolsom said, moderately frustrated as, in the background of the cleared out church, the corpse of a young was dragged off and the area around it cleared and sanitized. “Come on, it’s after midnight. I’ve made a report to the Palace through a courier, and His Lordship-- sorry, His Majesty now-- will be making the big announcement about his new Class tomorrow morning. You should get some rest.”

Prinner’s eyes bugged out, and his gloomy bitterness vanished, turning to panic. “You already reported on the situation?! I specifically told the officers not to! It’ll ruin me! I’m already on thin ice after killing Saral and losing Andrium’s killers!”

Tolsom held out a hand placatingly. “Calm down, son. Archons, it’s not the end of the world. You won’t be executed or something, and you certainly won’t be demoted-- the Throne needs sharp folks like you now, especially with the war almost certainly about to erupt, and everyone with a score of levels preparing down south.”

Prinner surged to his feet, blade outstretched. “We’ve known each other for a handful of hours, and you’ve been awfully familiar with me. How do I know you aren’t some plant by the revolutionaries or an agent of Develeon?”

Tolsom shook his head, half-grinning ruefully. “Boy, if I was one of the top brass’ spies, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But I’m not, all the same. I’m just the reserve guard, left here to keep the Watch and the garrison in order and working efficiently. I never expected riots, and I need all the help I can get. Now, either I can send in another report tomorrow, and ruin your career, or we can call a truce and actually work together like functioning adults.” He scratched his beard, then chuckled. “O’ course, you could just put a blade through me now. Go and hazard a guess that you could spin yet another death of a useful asset to the boss, but I doubt you’re that much of a dunce.” He extended a hand. “So, shake on it. Peace between comrades-in-arms, at least until these riots are dealt with?”

Prinner gazed at him warily for some time, then sheathed his blade and clasped the older man’s offered hand coarsely. Tolsom slapped him on the back. “There ya go. Now, let’s get to work. We got insurgents to smoke out.”