The Fool 14

Bolts from a crossbow array in the opposite wall jammed and clattered as ancient cable strings broke. A few minutes later, they were hobbling along again with a couple applications of non-world sanctioned magic and some supplies from Roy's first-aid kit. The three aware group members had a moment of silence for their barely avoided death, doubly so for Hunter.

The boy stopped praising the lich's ingenuity after almost tasting its fatal genius but he also was becoming sullen and listless again. In an attempt to restore some of the boy's flagging spirits, Orison pointed out that after avoiding disaster, good fortune was sure to follow.

Between ever deeper pants of fatigue from hefting Cray around while ignoring the twangs of pain from a not completely healed foot, the young mage said, "Just think. The real treasure here isn't money and gems. It's a bonafide caster's spellbook, we're looking at finding."

Cole quipped, "Pity the sea claimed the bonafide caster's best equipment."

Agitated, the young mage pointed out, "If it wasn't for a low tide, we would have lost Cray. Each one of us is worth a hell of a lot more than a couple of neat pieces of equipment. We got the good trade."

He could tell that Cole wanted to make a comment about their 'good trade' but possessed the bare minimum amount of social grace and gratitude to not state the obvious. That didn't stop him from addressing the issues Cray represented, however.

"I may not be a fellow admirer of our celestial kidnapper but she did underline some real problems we'll be facing. Have you considered which of the three bad options you favor and how... our friend adds into that?" Cole said, making a solid effort to state it as tactfully as he could.

Rolling around what factors he knew Orison responded, "If there isn't a solution to Cray's problem in the lich's lair, I have one last 'Hail Mary' to throw. After that, if there's no sign of improvement and no further hope of recovery, I-I'll do what needs to be done... I'm for wintering. Finding food in a forest while we take time to prepare ourselves as best we can sounds like the best choice."

Attempting to project a hopefulness he wasn't feeling in the least, Cole said, "We're on the same page... Having someone raised in the woods on our team would be a huge help. I'll be waiting for good news."

The young mage hadn't needed a reminder of how heavy the burden Cray represented while he sweated away on legs starting to get shaky. Luckily, they were close to their destination. He wanted to hold some grudge for Cole not helping him out but the feline teen was the primary reason their trip had been relatively easy. They were dangerously close to a repeat of the 'Endless Corridor' incident.

In the privacy of his own head, Orison thought, "C+ effort in tact there, Cole. It would have been a solid B if not for that 'Waiting on good news' thing. What a way to accidentally put the pressure on me."

While he fiddled with the inner lair's warded door, trying to piece together a safe way to open it without taking enough curse magic to kill and raise him as undead despite his ability to absorb some, Cole said, "You'd think there'd be at least a low level remnant or two. Why weren't there any ghosts or or greater undead servants?"

For once, Hunter's gamer logic was wrong as he supposed some kind of struggle for territory or experiments gone wrong.

Pausing for a moment on the door puzzle, Orison explained, "These guys, all of them, are older than sin itself. If not for that, forget not being a match for that lich, we'd have been fragile toys to play with. Weight of centuries had dulled it's wits and corroded its abilities. Even its very body was finally losing the battle against entropy.

"Oh, and it had evolved into a soul eater too. Over its long tenure here, to keep hanging on, it had slowly went through its own henchmen with any spiritual substance like emergency rations. At it's rate of decline, a few more decades would have finished it off... In Osomo terms, we finished off a calamity while it was on its last legs but enough spirit left to fight instead of running away, the mother of all lucky chances."

Cole snorted. "You mean, getting the finishing blow after everyone else had wiped a respawn. Surprise fighting anything on it's last legs is the mother of all UNLUCKY chances. At least, that's what I heard. Unlike you, I was never a Chosen."

The young mage sighed and finished opening the door. It took an hour total but he relearned lock/unlock in the process. In fact, it was a better version that registered as a transmutation. It was likely what the original tome was supposed to grant before the Will of Amoril shut it down.

He shared his findings on the possibilities of doing a spell with similar effects using a different 'school' of magic while he went around activating outer defenses and deactivating ones in the lair. Hunter fired back an equally interesting possibility in return. In theory, healing could be an evocation spell, humorously what Orison thought of as destruction magic. Since it dealt with raw forces, raw 'positive energy' fit the description. The effects of vital water pretty much verified the theory.

Suddenly, a few months being trapped in a snow bound place didn't seem so bad. Before it was all said and done, it might become difficult to decide who was the student and who the teacher before it was over. As a climber whose preferred self defense was magic, Orison hadn't experienced a great deal of power growth in the area since his days of Amoril and Hunter's insight could be a major turning point in his abilities matching his capabilities.

"Alright, you can watch me if you want but don't touch anything that I haven't looked over once. There's curses all over the place in here," the young mage said after they found a nice cleared spot to lay Cray at.

Exhausted to the point of collapse himself, Orison finally cleared all the identifiable dangers in the room and got back to where Hunter had been looking through the lich's book collection.

The unsurprisingly erudite boy said, "I'm sorry, Orison. There was a soul mending solution here but according to the information in this work logbook, it's spoiled. Ingredients to make them with became rare over a hundred years ago and the breeding stock they used the...m... on, became too... nonviable.

"My god! They bred people for food. And after they were used up, skeleton foot soldiers was their fate. There were thousands upon thousands for generations... I assumed that they just dug them up from graveyards or something. That's..."

"Monstrous? They're monsters. The sad reality is, many human empires throughout history weren't much better... Cole any healing looking items among the loot collection?" Orison said.

The feline teen offered, "I've been working with Hunter to go through this stuff and you toasted a good half of it as it is. No good news on the healing front but we do have one sunny piece. We got a refilling water jug and a spoon that makes a few bowls of edible paste a day. There were a set but these are the only ones that still work. Since we already know WHY the monster had them, lets not dwell on it.

"We have this storage bag filled with dust and a few ratty chests with item crafting materials in it. Oh, there's his soul orb. We could crack it and set them free but it stopped being people souls put in it awhile back. It's evil THING souls, now."

The young mage's eyes lit up. "THAT could improve the chances of my last ditch effort with Cray a lot. Let me see it."

Hesitantly, Cole handed the orb to him while giving him a funny look. Once Orison had inspected it, took a few minutes to reference it in the lich's meticulous logbook and finally combed through the souls inside, he was ready. For the couple of souls that had managed by sheer luck to reach a kind of neutrality by attacking and devouring the weaker evil souls inside, he made a deal to release them into the 'veil' in return for being able to use their impressions in his summoning magic for a time. For the rest, he planned on devouring them.

The young mage said, "Alright, please hold your personal opinions on what I'm about to do but I have a severely damaged soul, you two have relatively average souls and Cray needs spiritual strength badly to help with what's to come. When I beckon you like so, line your chest point up here and your forehead point here up with mine. If I lose consciousness..."

The young mage explained how he would share the spiritual 'loot' with his group and how to help Cray when the time came. Once he'd thought and expressed every contingency he could, he began pulling spirit essence from the orb using its commands. It was novel to have so much control over the flow of enrichment after so many memories of shotgun blasts worth of it at a time.

One major disappointment was the lack of karmic gain. Apparently, the way he was 'destroying wickedness' balanced out in the eyes of whatever supernatural force was keeping tally. In retrospect, soul eating was ridiculously wicked an act itself and if the souls he was destroying in the process weren't old monsters, it would have come up a huge net loss of virtue. The possibility of becoming damned and 'falling' wasn't out of consideration either.

Using the amount of essence Hunter and Cole had taken in before tapping out as a guideline, Orison formulated how much to give Cray and erred on the side of caution. While his two companions held the archer to him, the young mage gently pushed the allotted amount of essence before downing the dregs for himself. He didn't end up really getting that much for himself in comparison to the sludge his latticework had collected but it was all for a good cause in his mind.

He had never and didn't plan on trying to turn soul eating into a power growth option. His intuition had fed to him on multiple occasions, when it was stronger, what the result of such a path was. He didn't want to go anywhere near such an end goal but an initial overall boost was worth the faint whisper and slight craving egging him to indulge in it more. It would fade with time. And if past experience was anything to go off of, the total he'd taken in barely qualified.

In worry, the ever observant Hunter said, "Isn't soul eating addictive and evil?"

"Yes and yes. But depending on the soul, the consequences can be much less dire. Don't worry. I find the concept loathsome and pretty much only make exception for the worst of the worst and undead. Anything undead with spiritual substance flies in the face of natural order enough for karma to not take offense," the young mage justified.

Hunter looked unconvinced and only more disturbed.

Cole added, "One way or another, it doesn't seem to have done much except make me feel bloated. Cray doesn't look any better either."

Orison nodded thoughtfully. "It'll take time to digest and make it yours but it should give you a touch of supernatural sensitivity of some kind, depending on personal inclination. As far as Cray goes, this was to strengthen and bolster his soul so that it can heal its connection. I haven't gone in to apply the spiritual stitches yet, so to speak."

After a discussion about advantages and disadvantages, they decided to extend their stay some. The lair had a great deal of useful things and storage was limited. A little digestion time for Orison and some more time to scour the place ended up winning over fear of reprisal from the undead empire that stretched for a myriad of miles inland.

Over the course of evening and into the morning of the next day, rough changes of watch mellowed out to decent rest. It would have been when they would originally have left but Hunter wanted to explore the book collection a bit more. Cole wanted to look for hidden stashes that no doubt existed. Most importantly, Orison was looking to proceed with the last option he had left to try to pull Cray back into a functioning person again.

Getting everything ready, Orison was grateful to have Hunter on hand. Not only did the fifteen year old boy have a decent maturity for his age, he helped explain things out to Cole who was far more dubious after he saw what was entailed. An occasional comic point even helped alleviate the young mage's own misgivings about what he was about to do.

"Okay, I understand the whole aligning of the chakra points stuff but why do we have to watch one half naked guy hug another for an hour. Orison can just stop whenever he wants," Cole said.

Hunter replied, "It's kind of weird metaphysical but he'll be deep concentrating. We can still do what we're doing. We just have to be ready to jump in if something unexpected happens. It's not any different than when we take turns watching while everyone sleeps."

Cole looked at the basin. "What's up with the tub of water?"

"He said things can get nasty. Expelling impurities from the body and stuff. Overall it sounds like a pretty good thing. You can even share stuff you know and understand," Hunter said, looking smug.

"Are there downsides?" the feline teen said, gaining interest.

Hunter replied, "Mostly, it's just hard to do. You've got to trust a lot because you're leaving yourself pretty vulnerable to the other person. I guess you could get lost in it and end up marking each other but even that doesn't sound too serious as long as you get along."

If Orison hadn't been mentally and spiritually adjusting, he would have corrected that one but he figured he'd have plenty of time afterward. Hunter might be curious but Cole was even more cautious that himself in the young mage's mind.

The conversation continued with Cole asking finer details and Hunter regurgitating Orison's explanations with minor misunderstandings. He tuned them out altogether as he made a final check over. As an added precaution, Orison placed a magic circle as well to keep spiritual things contained and outside spiritual forces from interfering. It wasn't an ideal place to be doing such a thing but the alternative was too difficult and possibly would lead to unsolvable problems resulting in the loss of Cray.

He gave himself one last mental pep talk. "Oh, Cray. Buddy, if you hadn't saved everyone's bacon on the way almost out the door, there's no way in hell I'd be doing this for you. If this was pre-reincarnation Orison here with you it wouldn't have happened either. His incident with Ivan scared the bajeezus out of him.

"In good conscience, I have to at least try when I know it has a good chance of working. I even have Celeste reviving her thought form friend as evidence... Not going to lie. Most of my courage comes from knowing you can't move and will be almost completely passive.

"So, if anyone makes a mistake, it's going to be me. And even then, if you're restored enough to get angry, at least I can say, 'The fact you can jump my a** about it is thanks to the thing you're mad about'. Hehe, try arguing with that!"

Before he lost his nerve, Orison delved in. Cray's spiritual world was small, simple and clean. Or, at least, it was. Adam's inheritance was like strangely rich and slightly gaudy furnishings inside a quaint and unassuming country cottage. Cray's soul had been in a bit of a dilemma even before the lich incident.

Before he got to work fixing the spiritual disconnect issue, he did some 'spring cleaning', returning things to order and throwing out trash. Along the way, he discovered bits and pieces that were refuse for Cray but would be useful to him. There was a vague sense of asking permission and receiving it that made such a thing alright, like a friend who was a bit awkward feeling about getting his house cleaned but thankful it was getting done.

***

Along the way of delving deeper into the symbolic exercise, the young mage felt Cray's presence become less and less passive in the repairs. Orison would hold the fabric tight on a restuffed and reupholstered couch while Cray nailed it snugly in place. After seeing that Orison looked a little faded and tired, he invited him in for something to drink and relaxed a bit before they went back outside, clearing a beaver dam out of the creak behind his place.

Suddenly, Orison didn't feel so good. Being the good friend that he was, Cray took him home. One look at the insane mash of shopping mall/temple/townhouse, the archer rolled up his sleeves and followed the example that the young mage had set. Having it pointed out how terrible of a hoarder he was, Al was embarrassed to death.

While in the midst of 'spring cleaning' the townhouse, Al noticed that Cray was starting to look faded and tired. Rummaging around, he found some Mad God brand soft serve chaos flavored ice cream he'd forgotten he had stashed away in a dim corner. Whipping it up from scratch, they sat down to finish it off before it went bad and washed it down with some 'spirits' in Al's liquor cabinet.

Rejuvenated, they got back to work ordering things and transforming the weird mashup into something that made sense. When Cray started feeling a little ill, the green lady offered to take him home while Al kept working.