II-24 Return

Momento mori. 

A dead statement from a dead world in a dead language that few people can remember. Latin, I think it was called. At least according to the text I recovered from the ruins of pre-integration Earth. The general meaning, from what I could understand, is that death is inevitable, and that one must remember that death is always coming.

But to a Necromancer, this has another meaning. Remember death. Remember that death is all around you. Remember that this world has died, that the entire world is an effigy to focus your power to draw on for necromancy. That is the first thing I believe any aspiring necromancer should learn and should understand.

Memento mori. Remember. Remember that you are already shrouded by death. Though you are a spot of life, though the world around you seems to be growing, flourishing, look between, and you will see death, death, death, so much death.

The hand of the great enemy stretches vast across existence. But the void is not death. That expanse between the stars and the worlds and the dimensions is not death. That is simply absence. Death is loss. Death is something that was and no longer is. That is the power of death, the withering, the decay, the entropy.

That is why, when you wield necromancy, vitality is twisted, turned into the withering. The mind becomes an echo of itself, great intellects reduced to simple understanding, simple instinct, even after you reinstall them in a body. And the soul, in place of it, is merely a scar, a vessel for the necromancer to direct their spells and intent.

This is why necromancy stands at the adept here, at the very least, because it is tied to many other magical disciplines, Psychomancy perhaps closest of all, due to the nature of infusing one’s mind and manipulating intelligence and intent. But death goes deeper. It is the first threshold into reaching the soul, for it replaces and allows someone to reshape and manipulate the lingering essence of a soul that was.

And only after one fully masters absence and loss can they proceed to the next step. The step that most call Animancy. The first step towards understanding the divine. But I would say it’s more than that. Animancy is the foundation—the first step. The first step of all first steps. For without a soul, without that thing that allows us to wield meaning, to shape concepts, to generate mana, once a soul is bound with mind and vitality, Then there is nothing, merely absence, and not death.

For Necromancy to be true, something must first be lost.

-Legendary Pathbearer Valor Thann

II-24

Return

Gravitic Wrestler > 109

Psychomancy > 12

Practical Metabiology > 18

Knife Proficiency > 41

Dread Aura > 68

On the way back to Weave, Shiv grew beyond impressed by Adam’s Heroic-Tier Awareness. The Young Lord had borderline prescience now. He saw enemies coming long before they even got close. Most of the time, he helped them evade patrols easily when they couldn’t. He sent Shiv, Uva, and a few others ahead to conduct devastating ambushes against incoming threats.

A dynamic solidified in their group. Adam was the linchpin and the tactical mastermind. He called out targets, positions, and recommendations while firing precise shots to eliminate the most vulnerable members of the opposition. Shiv became both shield and hammer. He slammed into the hardest points of the enemy forces, cracking them, ripping apart the strongest adversaries while drawing fire from other adversaries. The Umbrals—and Uva especially—became the daggers, slaying stragglers, hidden foes, and cutting down major threats while they were busy struggling with Shiv. 

Somewhere along the way, Uva achieved a state where she could use her own mind to designate targets for the mind-dead Greater Demon. This made her a psionic titan as well, and so most minor threats met swift and brutal ends.

Tragically, this meant no deaths for Shiv, and slow level advancements.

They proceeded across the land without too much difficulty after those initial few engagements. During that time Shiv found himself split between cooking, going over a curriculum with Adam, studying Practical Metabiology through the Odes, healing people via his Woundeaters, spending time with the others, and being tutored by Uva in Psychomancy. Along with some other things.

The Deathless was basically alone inside the gate. He’d caused quite a bit of damage, somehow evaded capture, and even survived an encounter with the Gate Lord. But ultimately, one Pathbearer alone wasn’t going to be able to crack an entire gate—not even with inside help. He needed more than himself, and right now, he was more than himself. When he fought with the others, his power was multiplied and his weaknesses were blunted.  He found himself able to focus on dealing damage and breaking through the enemies without worrying overmuch about enemy Psychomancers, mages, or unseen foes.

This was the best part about fighting alongside good and capable comrades. Alone, when you made a severe mistake, that was it—death, or something worse. Together: when your strength flagged, someone would keep you standing until you recovered. When you made a mistake, someone would fix it. Someone would keep the group fighting. And when they needed you, and you helped them, something hardened between the two of you. You didn’t need to like each other. You didn’t even need to trust each other that much. But in the heat of battle, having someone you could rely on and who understood you comprehensively was indispensable.

Ultimately, they reached Weave in less than two days. The 402 slaves would have slowed them down, if not for Uva’s idea to have Shiv create something of a protective vessel. He did so by ripping a limb off of the Jealousy when Uva briefly released the mind-dead Greater Demon for Shiv to do his physical exercises. 

Shiv hid the slaves in the limb just because the meat was a proper cushion and the bones were good structural supports. The slaves didn’t quite like going back inside the gigantic monster, but Shiv was no engineer—and neither was anyone else in the group. If they were going to move fast, it was better that they were both protected and easily secured at the cost of a bit of blood and discomfort.

“That’s a really disgusting idea,” Adam said, gagging at the people crawling back into the wounds Shiv made along the tentacle. “But it appears to be bloody working. Quite literally…”

And it did bloody work. Shiv carried the entire tentacle like it was little more than a pebble in his hand, and without the slaves slowing them down, they tore across the Umbral Wilderness. The group used ravines and thickets to shroud their movements. With Adam charting the course, they didn’t get lost, they didn’t get confused, and they didn’t get ambushed. Not by feral weavers, not by distant vampiric snipers sulking in shadows hidden by foliage, not even by near-invisible dimensionals drifting high above in the sky.

“You know something, Adam?” Shiv thought, as Adam crushed a vampire’s heart in his hand. “If I ever lose my keys or something small, I’m gonna come find you immediately.” 

The Young Lord snorted across the mental link. “And if I encounter the largest, tightest pickle jar in the world, I think I’ll defer to you. We’ll have to leave the intellectual work to the sister, though.”

Uva hummed as she tore the mind out of a group of unsuspecting metallic dimensionals. “Such is the burden of competence.”

They communicated with each other across a span of a few dozen kilometers—contact made easy, thanks to Uva wielding the Jealousy. Even as a Master-Tier Biomancer, Shiv’s own mana-field was practically a dot at the center of the Jealouy’s, practically a hundred times smaller. And now, Uva was actively directing all that colossal force. She was an inner accretion surrounded by a vast and encompassing external sphere. It took a lot out of her, but it also made her stronger, made her more attuned to the Jealousy. With each fight, her efforts became less burdened and her Psychomantic manipulation became far less restrained.

“There is another patrol,” Uva said, speaking to everyone at once. “They are coming. I think that the sniper we eliminated managed to signal them. We should find an alternative route.”

Shiv responded to that news by cracking his knuckles. He did want to smash something again.

“No,” Adam replied, his tone blasé. “We stick to the route. They’re going to miss us. The mess that Shiv left back in the woods probably going to leave them confused. All his flayed skin decoys likely will wreak merry hell on their morale. And all those supposed cave-biter markings that we left would make them assume marauding monsters attacked their people. I’ll keep an eye on them, but we’re close. We’re not wasting any more time. Let’s get back through the gateway, back to Weave.”

The gateway leading into Weave wasn’t the same one Shiv initially passed through. This one was located at the bottom of a glittering lake, deep down through a chasm, until the dark was so encompassing that not even Shadowsense allowed Shiv to see his own fingers in that abyss. But as he found himself wondering, wavering about whether he was in the right place, he suddenly passed over a threshold and stumbled into a corridor lined with glistening webs. A weaver greeted him on the other side, bowing and making the gesture they reserved for the Composer and for those deemed honored and exalted.

“Exalted Guest Shiv,” she said. “You’ve returned safely from your trials outside.”

“Weaveress,” Shiv replied. “Glad to be back in a place that doesn’t take slaves, or makes me want to kill everyone.”

“It pleases us that you think this way,” the Weaveress muttered, sounding slightly uncomfortable.

Shiv patted the spiderfolk on the hairy carapace and moved on. Behind him, he dragged in the large, looming tentacle of the Jealousy. The spider gawked with all eight of its eyes and stumbled back.

“What is—what is—” she stammered. “Is that a tentacle?”

“There are slaves inside,” Shiv said. The Weaveress looked more confused than ever. “They are probably pretty uncomfortable by now, but this is the only way I could run across the land with the others without smearing them at the speed we were going.”

“I will—I will warn the others to begin proceedings and prepare the anchor.”

“Thanks,” Shiv grunted, pulling the limb along.

She retreated through the silken strands that composed the spatial corridor, and Shiv just chuckled.

Dread Aura > 69

“You love doing that,” Adam said, landing atop the tentacle that Shiv was dragging. The Young Lord had his bow slung over his back, and the Umbrals were gathered behind him, resting as well. In the back, Ikki was bouncing up and down, excitedly narrating to the others about what she’d seen Shiv do earlier. Uva was the last one through, and Shiv felt her arrival when the Jealousy’s colossal Psychomancy field crashed over his, and it was immediately followed by Uva’s. 

Shiv noticed her Psychomancy was changing on an even finer level. Before, her field rippled, it cast out broadcasts, but now it seemed to be sinking, the ripples growing ever more subtle as she submerged her own mind into the Jealousy.

“You okay?” Shiv asked telepathically. Uva simply climbed to the top of the tentacle, joining the rest of her team and Adam, before she smirked at him. “Yes, I am learning to integrate myself better inside the jealousy’s mind. It was alien before. I had to force a few things. But now, after spending some time in its memories, I think it’s more like a sleeve.”

“A sleeve?” Shiv said. He was impressed. “I don’t think I could ever understand a creature like that. And I was linked with its mind for a while.” Shiv shuddered at the memory, but Uva simply laughed. Her laughter slithered across his mind, and he could hear an echo of the Jealousy. Shiv felt a cold terror run through him. He remembered that laugh. He remembered the beast’s screaming hate at the end.

Uva sent him a feeling of apology, and restrained the voice of the Jealousy. “Apologies,” she said, slightly embarrassed. “Sometimes when you sync your mind with another on a deep level, they echo you, especially if they’re mind-dead.”

“Well, I hope it stays mind-dead,” Shiv added. “Last thing I wanted to find out is that the Greater Demon was actually be pretending this whole time, and be wearing you instead.” 

That thought made him more than a little worried, but Uva simply prodded him. “Oh, is my sweet brute terrified that I might get my mind eaten?”

“Yes,” Shiv answered honestly, without hesitation. A feeling of slight warmth emanated from Uva. 

“Do not worry, Shiv—it is dead. You’ve broken it. You’ve broken it in the maddest way possible and brought us a corpse of a Greater Demon, a Heroic-Tier Jealousy. Heroic Tier Pathbearer. Two titans will enter. Weave today. Only one has their mind intact, however.”

He grinned at her flattery. “Yeah, well, hopefully one’s more handsome than the other,” Shiv glared at the tentacle, remembering how it used it to bash him a few times.

“Correct.” Uva paused. “A shame that you have too many eyes.”

Shiv barked a laugh. “I’m going to get you for that later.”

“Oh? How?” Uva taunted. Her teasing almost ignited something inside Shiv.

“You’ll find out later.” Shiv’s voice was edged with intent, and she responded with a hum of laughter. 

“Fine. I look forward to my punishment. But dinner first.”

“Always,” Shiv finished.

As they reached the inside of the anchor, Shiv quickly discovered the tentacle was a bit too big to be brought in. He ripped opened the tentacle, let out all the slaves, had them filter into the anchor. Then, he clamped his hands together, using his gravitic field in tandem with his Biomancy to crush the tower-sized limb into liquid paste and bone dust.

When he finished, he turned to see everyone gawking at him. “What? I couldn’t let that block the path? It’ll be rude.”

The corridor was practically drenched in thick, black blood, though. Shiv winced. He hoped the spiders wouldn’t get too mad about that.

“That is absolutely bullshit,” Adam muttered. “I need to get to Master-Tier Physicality by… by next month. I can do it. I can…” 

Shiv snorted. “You guys should have seen me fight the damn thing. That was a messy felling brawl. And the bastard kept running away.”

“Oh, can you blame the poor thing?” Siggy said, her eyes wide like saucers. “You just mangled one of its limbs. You mangled a small building with your hands! You just clamped your hands together and—and poof! It’s gone!”

Shiv gave her a look. “Well, tell you what, Siggy—if you ever make it to Master, this is what you’ve got to look forward to. Of course, some of us here are Heroes. I’m sure that Adam here…” Shiv said, patting the Young Lord on the back a little too hard. A burst of force rattled across Adam’s armor, and the Young Lord was nearly launched off his feet. Shiv didn’t let that happen, though. He used his field to keep Adam standing. “…has far more strength and power than just a meager Master. Isn’t that right, Adam?”

The Young Lord glared death at Shiv. “Get tainted!”

“What was that? Is that a new skill name? A Master-Tier Skill, perhaps? Something for Physicality or Toughness?” 

Adam walked away from Shiv with a growl of disgust.

As soon as they were all properly secured inside the anchor, the spells began to spin and they were promptly analyzed. Some slaves looked at each other, their forms haggard, blood-drenched, but ultimately alive. The past few days probably seemed like a feverish dream for them. Most were still huddled together in their own little groups and cliques along the journey, but their terror at Shiv remained throughout. Despite him feeding them, despite the protection he offered them, they were apprehensive about approaching him. He couldn’t blame them: as he fought the jealousy, many died, and his Dread Aura didn’t help things either. He could still feel their courage—fragile, broken. Some might stay broken for good, but one among them stood a pillar, a pillar stronger than most.

Out of everyone, she alone approached Shiv, seeking him out as the teleportation anchor scanned them for contaminants and unknown diseases. “I… I want to thank you,” she said, her eyes glistening. He could feel her terror as well, but she was braver than she was scared, and Shiv quite liked that about her.

“Oh? What about?” Shiv said, turning his smile on her. She flinched at his sudden movement, and Shiv held back a wince. He was Master Pathbearer now, though he didn’t feel much like one. He felt powerful sometimes, perhaps, but he still felt like the same old Shiv as he always was—just tougher, stronger, and able to do some interesting things with injuries. But that wasn’t the case with other people. Shiv remembered how envious he was of even Advanced Tier Pathbearers, how they moved too fast for him to track, how they were absurdly strong, even when their bodies and musculature were inferior to his. 

It was unnatural. It was nerve-rattling. It was everything he ever wanted.

And now, he lived his very dreams.

The girl swallowed and continued. “I want to thank you for everything—for saving us from the monster, for protecting us across this journey, for feeding us.” She looked at the other slaves and licked her lips. She wasn’t sure what to say. She seemed lost. “What happens to us now?”

And Shiv was just about as lost as she was when it came to her future. “Now, well, I think… I think you get processed in Weave. They save a lot of slaves, and they help people like you. It’s not the same as the gate here. They don’t take people and use them as things. You’ll be safe, I think.”

“She will be,” Uva said, stepping away from her sisters. “What is your name, girl?”

Shiv felt the urge to smash himself in the head—he hadn’t even bothered asking the girl’s name this entire time. I was pretty occupied, he thought.

“I’m Sarah,” the girl said. “Sarah Bradenton. I was—my mother was. We lived in the Pre-Umbral. We lived in Salslort. A mushroom farming town.” Her eyes grew distant. “It doesn’t exist anymore. Not since the Compact decided to expand.”

Uva nodded. It was a look of sympathy on her face, but it was a practiced look. Uva was too used to this. “I’m sorry. We will have Psychomancers who might be able to deal with your trauma, and the Office of Acclamation will see that you are all given proper assignments during your time here.”

“Assignments?” she said.

“Correct. Weave is a place built on service, but we will not force you to be slaves. You will be given choices, and you will be settled into temporary housing.” Uva winced. “Although the rooms might not be that fine or spacious.”

“Rooms?” A slave breathed. “We all get our own rooms?”

Shiv was once again reminded how much worse his life could have been.

The girl nodded. “Thank you. Thank all of you.”

The door leading into the teleportation anchor opened revealing a few white-robbed Weaveresses along with a contingent of Umbrals. A good many slaves flinched back, their terror spiking. Shiv could feel it with his Dread Aura. They were no longer looking at him—no longer afraid of him. Many pointed at the Weaveresses as they backed away until they were pressed against the walls.

“Feral weavers! We’re gonna be eaten!”

“We’re gonna be sold!”

“They’re gonna use us for breeding!”

Uva winced. The Weaveresses flinched.

“No, no,” Shiv said. “Stop! Look at me!” Shiv used his Dread Aura to good effect this time. Everyone looked back to him, their fear and terror locking back onto him like a lightning rod. “They’re not going to eat you. These are Weaveresses. Not feral weavers. They’re going to see you taken care of. We did not bring you across the entire Umbral Wilderness just to feed you to monsters,” Shiv said. He gave the Weaveresses an apologetic look, but they seemed rather sanguine about the entire thing. “You’ll be fine. I will make sure of it. Okay? If you don’t believe me…” He patted Sarah on the shoulder, and the girl jumped. “Look at Sarah. Believe in Sarah. She’s real brave.”

Sarah paused and nodded. “W-we’re going to be fine, everyone. We’re safe! It’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Shiv said awkwardly. The slaves were all looking at him, wide-eyed, terrified. But ultimately, it quieted down.

“All right,” Shiv said. “You try to take care of them, okay? A lot of them are going to need a lot of help. You take care of yourself, too.” He nodded several times at her, but wasn’t sure what else to say. “I’m sorry. You deserved better. I wish I was stronger. I’ll see if I can get the others out too.”

He moved to walk away.

“Will I see you again?” the girl asked.

Shiv paused, considering that question. He wasn’t sure. “I don’t know,” Shiv said. “I’ll probably be around if I don’t end up dead for good. I’ll tell you what, though. Down the line…” His brow furrowed in contemplation. “Down the line, you know, I’m thinking about opening a restaurant here. So, if you ever want to look me up—maybe someday—you’ll see Shiv’s Restaurant or something like that,” he laughed. “I’m still working on a name, but you can probably find me there.”

“Shiv’s Restaurant?” Uva said, cocking her head to the side. “When did this idea come to you?”

“Just now,” Shiv said. “If I don’t end up dead and manage to deal with the shit upstairs, I think I’ll probably stick around for a while. I don’t know—explore the Abyss, meet new people and see new sights.”

Uva’s expression told him she rather liked his plan.

“I’ll do it,” Sarah said, nodding vigorously. “If you open the restaurant, I’ll definitely come. Your food is… It’s almost the best I’ve ever had.”

“Almost,” Shiv said.

“Best I ever had was the food my mother made,” Sarah said. “But I won’t ever get to have that again.”

And Shiv knew that there was no hope of winning anymore.

“Ah, well, hopefully I can give you a bunch of second best, then,” he said, slightly solemn. “Hopefully.”

She paused. “If you open a restaurant, you’re going to need to hire people, right?”

“Yeah,” Shiv said. “Usually that’s how it goes.”

“Well, I always wanted to be a chef.”

And Shiv had a funny feeling—a feeling that this interaction, this moment, was just one step in many to come. “Well, if you’re interested, I’ll teach. I won’t call myself a…” Shiv paused. He was technically a Master at Cooking. “I wouldn’t call myself a Hero at cooking,” he said. “But I can show you a few things. It’ll be hard work, though. High pressure.”

She stared at him. “I don’t think that will compare to the pain of being a slave.”

“Yeah,” Shiv said, his mood souring again. “I think you’re right.”

As the slaves were led out and guided to wherever they needed to go next, Shiv and the others followed Uva to another section of passage. After arriving there, they debriefed a room full of Weaveresses and other Cherished Sisters about their most recent expedition. Shiv was asked about many things in detail, and he repeated what he knew about the insides of the gate. 

The process, thankfully, wasn’t nearly as painful as the bureaucratic hellscape he had to endure after entering Gate Theborn. Within an hour, they were done and dismissed.

The Umbrals talked about departing to the showers to get cleaned up and to clock out for the day. The team invited Shiv and Uva to a card game, but Ikki interrupted.

“They got places to be inside,” Ikki wiggled her eyebrows at Shiv and Uva, but the Psychomancer simply shook her head at the young Umbral.

“She is such a child,” Uva said.

“Yeah, she’s got a lot of life in her,” Shiv replied, grinning at Ikki. The little Umbral gave him a thumbs up and then made a more lewd gesture that nearly made him choke.

“Regardless, I must head to the Elaboration first,” Uva said, doing her best now to mentally crush Ikki.

“What’s that?” Shiv asked her.

“That is a hidden facility somewhere deep, deep down inside Weave,” she smiled. “Maybe you’ll get to come and see sometimes. Depends on what the other Exalted Mothers and the Cherished Sisters decide. A good case can be made for you. You are a Psychomancer in training, and you did bring us the Jealousy we’re about to vivisect and examine.”

“Yeah, about that,” Shiv said. “Can you, like, I don’t know, leave one of its limbs or something? It’s still regenerating really fast, and I’d like a source of endless meat.”

At this, Uva couldn’t help it—she practically broke with laughter. Her voice was low, husky, and Shiv enjoyed the sight of it. 

While he was drinking her in, Adam shook his head in disgust.

“What the hell is happening?” Tran said. Heather was also stupefied.

Adam guided the two slayers—and Siggy, for that matter—away. “Let us give them space before they take our peace away again.”

“What do you mean, again?” Heather muttered.

“I mean the Omenborn has no sense of propriety, dignity, or public decency when night falls.”

Uva continued. “I expect the matter of the Jealousy to take some time, but, well, we’ll see what happens. This is, I will not exaggerate, a great gift offered to Weave. I suspect the Composer might wish to reward you again for this.”

“Well, I got to stop doing great deeds. I might bankrupt you guys,” Shiv joked.

Uva chuckled. “I have something for you, too.”

“Oh?” Shiv said. “What’s that?”

“I will show you. It’s at my sister’s store, best that you see for yourself.” Uva looked him up and down. He was clad in his adamantine bone armor now, but underneath he had practically little more than tatters left. “It has to deal with your modesty.”

“My modesty?” Shiv said, his pitch climbing. “I’m glad you’re worried about my modesty. Or is it you’re worried about other people concerning themselves with my modesty?”

“I just want you to have something left to wear after every fight,” she replied, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “And I think I found the solution. I hope.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“An enchantment. For a set of clothes,” she said. “Something I should have thought about the first few times you shredded your clothes.” 

Shiv paused. “It sounds a little expensive.”

“Quite cheap compared to a mostly intact Jealousy,” Uva replied.

“Fair enough. Call it even?”

“Oh, wait!” Shiv turned. “Heather!”

Heather froze mid-step, turning to him. Shiv pulled out another full set of bone armor and chucked it at the Jump Mage. “Hey, switch out of your armor. You can wear this instead.”

Heather stared at him in disbelief. “Seriously? Right now? Right now?”

Shiv shrugged. “I mean, later’s fine too. Uva?”

Uva slightly nudged Shiv on the shoulder. “Yes. Later. Patience, Shiv. Don’t bark at people to change their equipment in public.” She gave Heather a borderline apologetic stare. 

“See? Even your girlfriend—” Heather paused. “Holy shit, this is real. You two are actually a thing, aren’t you? This isn’t some kind of twisted joke by the system. You’re actually—” Heather gestured at the both of them.

Shiv folded his arms and remained impassive. Uva held her impressive poker face.

“Ah,” Heather sighed. “I can’t believe this. This place—giant spiders, the Omenborn’s a Master. And someone’s interested in him. Where the hells am I?”

“It will take some getting used to,” Adam said. “ I’m still not used to it myself. We… we will need to get you two situated. There’s a lot for you to learn here. It is a fine place.”

As Adam began explaining things, they exited Passage and entered the rest of Weave. Suddenly, the scale of the massive city struck the Slayers—and Siggy, for that matter. Shiv forgot the goblin was still following them. I need to deal with her at some point, Shiv thought. Still not sure what I want to do though.

“Whoa,” Tran said. “This is… this place…”

“Yes, it’s quite the sight,” Adam answered smoothly. And then a set of melodies washed over them. Strings played from a divine harp.

“What is that?”

“That,” Adam breathed in, “is music being played by a glorious, beautiful, and generous goddess.” And then a few of the melodies rose in note, as if turning into giggling laughter.

Foreshadowing: Within her symposium, the Composer watched as a group of intrepid heroes returned, and almost voyeuristically listened in on her praise. She giggled, and her harp giggled alongside her.

Well, it seems like Adam can be pretty charming when he’s not being prickly, Shiv thought to himself.

“I will find you an inn or some manner of hotel for accommodations,” Adam said, speaking to the Slayers. “Perhaps I will move in as well, since the bedroom still hasn’t been replaced.”

“What do you mean, the bedroom being replaced?” Tran asked. “What happened to the bedroom?”

Adam glared at Shiv and Uva. Shiv folded his arms even harder, pretending to be a stone. Uva just looked away.

“I will come find you when I’m finished at the Elaboration,” Uva said telepathically to Shiv. “After that, we will see my sister, and then—”

“Then, I’m going to show you the city,” Shiv replied.

“You’re going to show me the city?” Uva said, her eyes widening in curiosity. “How do you plan to do that?’

“Yeah—couldn’t fly before, couldn’t carry you, had to settle for a demon. And now? Well now I still can’t fly very well, but I can fling us repeatedly with my field. It’ll be like getting thrown. Repeatedly. Romantically thrown.”

Silver Tongue > 13

“You know exactly what to say to a girl,” Uva said deadpan, but also rather touched.

As Uva and the Umbrals departed, that left only Shiv, Adam, the Slayers, and Siggy. They stood along the protective railings that encircled the passage, and they saw demons flying through the air—massive manta-like forms carrying dozens of Umbrals and other races on their backs.

“Well, we’re definitely not on the surface anymore,” Tran said. “What are those?”

“Demons,” Shiv said.

“Demons?” Heather breathed.

“Yeah, things are not quite as the Republic interpreted,” Adam said, still running defense for his nation.

“Yeah, not really at all,” Shiv replied. “Especially with the Inquisition doing whatever the hell they’re doing.”

At that, all their moods soured.

“There is something rotten at the heart of our nation,” Adam said. “I will see justice done. I swear it, Slayers. I swear that the Inquisition will pay for what they inflicted on you. This is my word as Young Lord Adam Arrow. Heroic Pathbearer.” 

Both of the Slayers looked encouraged, but Shiv could still feel something on their faces. Being mentally tortured after being physically mutilated leaves wounds, and ultimately not everyone was like him. Shiv recovered. He practically felt fully recovered from his fight with the Jealousy.

What am I, Shiv thought.

 “But first we should see Valor,” Adam said, and that drew Shiv’s attention. “He told me to go find him the first chance I got when I returned. So. This is what we will do.”

“Yeah, Valor—what’s he working on? You said he was trying to solve the Animancy Core.”

“Correct. He’s in a place at the bottom of the city, somewhere called the Hallowed Depths. It is where Weave stores its most honored dead and those who are consecrated for Necromancy.”

“What? Necromancy?” Tran said, his eyes widening like saucers. He made a gesture invoking the Ascendants.

Adam shook his head. “There’s a lot to explain, but when you meet him, do not use the words lich, undead, or any kind of common nomenclature we’ve been taught by the church.”

“Okay, and, like, who is this Valor?” Heather said. 

Adam opened his mouth, but a series of awkward noises came out. “It’s hard to explain. He is a mentor of sorts, and… well, you’ll… you’ll see. You’ll get used to him,” Adam said.

“All right,” Heather said, as she looked down over the rails. “But how are we going to get there? This place is pretty high up, and you’re saying it’s all the way down. Don’t tell me we’re riding on one of those…” She bit her lip. “Demons.”

“No matter,” Adam said. “Shiv, I saw you shooting around the battlefield earlier. You seem to be able to fly now.”

There was a look of challenge in the Young Lord’s eyes. And Shiv knew exactly what to expect.

“Yeah,” Shiv said. “Well, flying’s not exactly what I think I’d call it. It’s more like flinging myself using my gravitic field—”

Adam casually unslung his bow and shot Shiv in the face with a frost arrow. The act was so random, Shiv didn’t even react as a burst of ice enveloped his head. It didn’t even particularly hurt, but it did surprise him momentarily—long enough that by the time he shattered the frost coating his head, Adam was already flying off, holding Heather in tow.

“The first person to arrive is the greater Pathbearer,” Adam declared, his voice echoing through the air.

“That son of a bitch,” Shiv muttered. “All right, Tran. We’re not going to let this bastard beat us. You too, Siggy. Get ready to fly.”

“What?” Siggy said, but Shiv didn’t care. He immediately grabbed the goblin and flung her at Adam.

Siggy screamed as she barely missed the Young Lord’s back.

Shit, Shiv grunted. I need to work on my accuracy.

“All right, well, looks like I’m going to have to grab her again. Hang on, Tran.”

Tran gawked in terror. “What?”

And then Shiv blasted off the edge of the passage with a flex of his Gravitic Wrestler, shooting over the railing with Tran in hand, diving to grab his “projectile goblin,” who screamed as she tumbled through the sky. Adam soared acrobatically and effectively through the air, doing twists and turns that Shiv found awkward to emulate. But the Deathless wasn’t so easily deterred anymore. He wasn’t limited by Momentum Core’s destruction. He could soar freely now, too.

And if Adam was a hawk ascending, then Shiv was a falling hurricane.

“Let’s see how fast those little wings flap, Young Lord,” Shiv chuckled, and he launched himself again.

Below, held like feathers in his hands, both Siggy and Tran screamed out in terror, their courage snapping like twigs.

Dread Aura > 70

Life was pretty good.