The Blackstar Legacy - Chapter 2

A small change from Chapter 1. The tower they're going to, mentioned in the document in chapter 1, is the Nexus Tower, but the artifact is called the Blackstar.

A month was a long time, and they had settled into the safe and amazing world of Avendell in that month. Not quite put down roots, but spread out. Gotten comfortable. He had enjoyed his time, putting off the thought of what would happen when the Sage finished translating the document. Now that it was done, they had to abandon the safety they had known and go back out into a world that had tried very hard to kill them the last time.

It was worth the danger, of course, but he was feeling bittersweet about it. His life in Eldham had been a happy one, but living among the magic here had been … amazing. Something he didn’t think he’d ever get to experience again.

Everyone else was quiet as they packed up their things, preparing to leave this place behind, perhaps forever, and Osric couldn’t help but wonder if they were feeling the same things.

It didn’t take him long to learn the answer to that, at least personally, as Grace said, “I’m not going.”

She had been quiet since leaving the Sage’s hut, but Osric had thought it was the same introspection as everyone else. He was, frankly, shocked at her revelation.

“What do you mean, you’re not going? We need you,” Talia said, sounding as much offended that she would abandon them as surprised.

Grace shrugged. “I’ve stayed too long already. I’m not here to save the world. I need to get back to what I do best.”

“If the world burns, Grace, you burn with it,” Jasper said. “It won’t matter how much you steal if you’re dead.”

Grace let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Then I’ll wish you all good luck. Besides, if I stay with you lot, I’ll probably wind up dead anyway. You’ve got your mission. I’ve got mine.”

“Don’t you want to be part of something bigger?” Osric asked. “This … this is more than any of us. You know that.”

“That’s not going to work. The only thing you get from joining something bigger is getting used and tossed aside when you’re no longer useful. That’s the way the world works.”

“That’s a terrible way to go through life,” Talia said, shaking her head.

Grace rolled her eyes, picked up her pack, and put it on her back. “It’s what life gives us. Letting people in only gives them the chance to take advantage of you. I’m no one’s chump.”

“I know we can’t make you come with us, but you’ve become important to us, Grace. We’ll need every bit of help we can get, and I don’t think we would have gotten this far without you. If you want to go, though ... I wish you good luck.” Osric said, and then paused, looking directly into her eyes. “You know, though, the Brethren won’t forget you. They’ll come looking.”

“Why would they care about me at all?”

“They know you were with us, at least for a while. They’re angry about the document, and if they didn’t want us to have it, they certainly don’t want us to get this Blackstar thing. They’re not going to just let you walk away. At the very least, they’ll want information from you so they can find us, and they’re not known for asking politely.”

“I can handle myself,” she said confidently, but it was clear to Osric that his words hit home.

The ‘I don’t care’ attitude was an act. She definitely cared about the Brethren tracking her down. Not that she would admit she was afraid. Grace had a chip on her shoulder that was larger than she was.

“I’m sure you can.”

The two of them looked at each other for a long moment.

Finally, she said, “Well … Bye.”

As she walked out of the hollowed-out tree the group had been using as shelter since they arrived back in the forest, Jasper said, “Grace, there’s greatness inside of you, if you gave yourself a chance. You could be better than you are.”

Grace froze in place, not looking back at them, but for a moment Osric thought she was going to change her mind. Turn around.

Instead, she said, “Whatever,” and was gone.

“Think she’ll come around?” Talia asked quietly.

Osric shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He watched the exit out of the tree, half expecting her to suddenly turn around and come back. Except she never did. He sighed, looking at the others. Everyone had resumed packing their things, the atmosphere heavier than before. Grace leaving had been a sobering dose of reality. They’d been a band of adventurers bounded together by a quest.

A quest that was now over.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. None of them had planned on being on being on a quest together, it had just kind of happened. There was no reason to stay together, go on this new quest together. It was only a matter of time before more of them started to drift away, just like Grace.

Osric turned to Talia, who was quietly stuffing her belongings into her satchel.

“Do you think more will leave?” he asked quietly, so only she could hear them. “We all just kind of ended up together. Is this all falling apart?”

Talia paused in her packing and looked up at him, her eyes soft. “Cinder and I won’t leave. We’re in this for the long haul. You’re stuck with us.”

The wolf raised his head at the sound of his name, tail thumping against the ground. A faint smile tugged at the corner of Osric’s lips. It was comforting to know that not everyone had one foot out the door.

“Jasper probably wont either,” she continued. “He’s too invested now. He was a member of the group and is clearly harboring anger toward them. And he’s spent years … decades, trying to learn about the veil. He won’t give up an opportunity like this.”

“Well, that’s four.”

“Don’t be so negative,” Talia chided, giving him a playful nudge. “People can surprise you, you know.”

“I hope you’re right,” he muttered, to himself as much as anyone else, before standing up and hefting his pack onto his back. “Is everyone ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Jasper said.

They filed out of the hollow tree and started down the forest path behind Valen, who would lead them to the pond and the weak point in the viel. There was a lot of day left, and would only take them a few hours to get there. After that, who knew where they’d end up.

They’d walked a few minutes when there was the sound of someone running through foliage behind them. Hands went to weapons as they turned around. There shouldn’t be any dangers, not in Avendell, but after the journey they’d been on, none of them were prepared to take a chance.

Osric wasn’t sure what he expected to burst through the trees, but it hadn’t een Grace, who skidded to a stop as she realized she caught up with them, slightly out of breath. Without a word, she started walking down the past, as if she was waiting on them.

A smile spread across Osric’s face as they all fell in step with her.

“I’m really happy you decided to…”

“Shut up,” Grace cut him off, but there was no real bite to her words.

Osric’s smile widened. She might never admit it, but he knew they’d gotten through to her. Or at least Jasper had. She put up a front of never caring about anything, about being apathetic to the world. But Osric knew that was a lie. She cared.

She cared a lot.

They had walked a lot of places over the last two months, covering what felt like the entire Great Forest, but this might be the most amazing walk they’d taken yet. The deeper they got into Avendell, the more amazing the forest got. Osric was lagging a little behind the group, looking at the marvelous creatures that followed the procession led by Valen and several of his Stagfolk brethren, and the strange, almost luminous trees around them.

It was a spectacular place.

Since they’d left, Talia and Jasper had been engaged in something of a philosophical debate over the nature of magic versus worship of the gods. They’d been going at it for weeks, since a few days after they arrived back in Avendell. They were both stubborn, but Osric thought they kept going not in an effort to win, but because they each liked the test of wills. Of their mind. Rowan and Osric had always stayed out of it, both of them more interested in what they could see and feel, or so it seemed to Osric. Grace was … well, grace. She’d join them sometimes, but more to throw a pole into the spokes than actually participate.

That girl thrived on chaos.

“But surely there must be some universal truth that underlies the nature of magic itself,” Jasper was saying. “After all, the gods created the world, taking all of the energies around us and making … everything, including the veil. The very energies that you harness to cast your spells. So in a way, it is no different than asking the gods for favors.”

“Magic is just magic, Jasper. There is no universal truth, not in the way you mean. It’s … a mechanical process, in its own way. I don’t ask anyone to cast spells and hope. I do specific things and get expected results when I do. It’s a craft, learned and practiced.”

“So you feel nothing when you’re casting your spells?” Rowan asked. “You don’t feel anything... greater? Some presence or power beyond yourself?”

“Magic isn’t like that, Rowan. It’s learned and practiced, not some mysterious blessing.”

“So it all just... comes from inside of you?”

“No. The way I understand it, we’re not pulling power from within ourselves, but rather shaping what’s already here. It’s a tool.”

“See, that’s exactly why I don’t bother with either gods or magic,” Grace said. “The moment you start depending on higher powers or the universe or whatever is the moment you lose your edge.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having faith,” Jasper said quietly. “The gods provide guidance and purpose.”

“And rules. So many rules.”

“Structure creates order. Without it...”

“... we’d all be free to make our own choices?” Grace interrupted. “How terrible.”

Osric was only half listening. He didn’t really know anything about all this. Yes, he had some kind of connection to the gods, or at least the ones that made up the Veilguard, but he didn’t pretend to understand any of it. He just... did his best to try and deal with each problem in front of him. It was all so much, he was still grappling with his role in all of this. Who needed to think about the nature of the universe when they’d been tasked with saving the world.

The debate continued followed settled into familiar patterns, each of them confident in their own beliefs, with Grace occasionally mocking one or both of them. They seemed to enjoy it, so who was he to tell them to stop.

Rowan must have felt the same, because he slowed his pace, falling back to walk beside him.

For a moment, they just walked in silence next to each other, before Rowan finally asked, “So the Sage seems to think you’ve got a special connection with the gods, Osric. Or at least with the Veilguard. Do you... feel it?”

“I was just thinking about that and, I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve never spoken to the gods, never had some grand vision. It’s more like... I’ve been guided at times by Cinder or their message to the Sage that I was coming, but that was kind of external. Not directly connected to me.”

“But you can heal, like Jasper does. You put your hands on someone and—” he made a vague gesture with his hands, “—and they’re mended. Not everyone can do that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t even know what I’m really doing. With Jasper, it’s different. He asks Heathus directly. Me? I’m praying to all of the Veilguard, hoping something sticks.”

Rowan clapped him on the shoulder and said, “You’re selling yourself short, Osric. Maybe you’re praying to all of them because you matter to all of them. Maybe they’re listening, all of them. That’s something even Jasper can’t say.”

“I guess what I really wanted to know is, when you heal, do you feel anything from Wyndra? Or… anything at all?”

There was something in Rowan’s voice. A sincerity, or maybe a desperation, that suggested this wasn’t just a theoretical debate, something to pass the time the way Talia and Jasper argued. He was looking for a specific answer. There was something specifically bothering him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. There’s something, yes. An energy that passes through me when I try to heal, but it doesn’t feel directed. Like, I don’t sense a guiding hand or voice, if that makes sense. I couldn’t tell you which god is behind it, or even what they think of me. It’s not something happened to me, it’s happening through me. It’s like I’m a weather vane, being struck by lightning.”

“Oh,” he said, disappointed.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I wish I could give you more. I mean, I’ve seen the power work, but… if there’s a greater meaning to it, I haven’t felt it.”

Rowan nodded, looking down at the forest floor as they walked.

“I’ve worshiped Wyndra my entire life. Trained under the Greenwood Rangers to protect her lands and keep her balance. Never once have I doubted that my faith was worth it.” He paused, glancing up toward the trees that towered above them. “But knowing about the veil now… I can’t help but wonder why she’s let things come to this. Why she hasn’t stepped in to set it right.”

“Maybe she has. I mean, she’s part of the Veilguard, who are actively trying to rebuild it, or whatever.”

Rowan shook his head. “It’s not just the veil, though. It’s all the things creeping that have come with it. The creatures in the woods, the abominations and twisted monsters. They tip the balance that Wyndra taught us to protect. If balance is her will, why are those things allowed to kill, to destroy? Why hasn’t she prevented it?”

“Maybe she’s focused on fixing the veil, as it’s the bigger threat,” Osric suggested. “And maybe they all have rules, boundaries they can’t break. Or maybe they trust their followers to be the ones to act. I mean… I think about Cinder, the ring, all these pieces pushing me, nudging me along a path without a direct hand. Maybe she expects the Rangers to do the same.”

“Maybe,” Rowan said, but it was hard not to hear the doubt in his voice.

Osric felt for him. It was a confusing time, with everything they’d learned about the world, but he did know how to help the ranger. Maybe, once they got this blackstar thing and repaired the veil, they could work with the other rangers and rid the forests of these creatures.

For now, though, their duty was clear.

It took hours to get to the pond, most of it filled with restless chatter. Everyone was nervous about what was going to happen once they got the answers from the Veilguard. What the next phase of their quest led to. Considering how close they’d come to death already, Osric knew he was nervous, and it seemed the rest were too, even Jasper and Rowan, who had seen a lot more than the rest of them.

The forest got darker the further they went, the trees larger and the canopies thicker. And yet, it never became hard to see. It was as if the entire forest glowed, just enough to keep everything just visible.

They’d all just started to unclench, letting their camaraderie calm their nerves, when Valen slowed and then stopped.

“This is where I must stop,” Valen said, still looking down the path rather than at them.

“Why can’t you continue with us?” Osric asked.

“Ahead lies a place of communion. The gods, our creators, reside here. It is forbidden for my kind to enter. This is a place only for those chosen by the gods,” he said, shifting to look at Jasper and then back to Osric. “You bear the blessing of the Veilguard, Osric Yarrow. Your group has earned the right to tread here.”

“Ohh,” Osric said.

“Thank you, Valen, truly, for bringing us this far,” Jasper said, keeping his senses about him better than Osric had.

“You honor me, Jasper Mowbray,” he said, bowing his head slightly, causing the small trinkets and fine chain woven around them as decoration to sway slightly. “You have only to head down this path a ways, and you will find the place you seek. I will wait here and guide you out once your purpose is complete.

Osric gave Valen a small smile and squared his shoulders, taking the first step toward their destination, leaving the rest to follow. If he was the one selected by the Veilguard, then it was up to him to go first, even if this whole thing terrified him some. They walked the path in silence for several minutes until the dense foliage ahead parted, revealing an open space that stopped Osric in his tracks.

Before them lay a perfect circle of cleared earth, the trees and even bushes stopping, as if they were afraid to intrude on this ground. In the center, as though drawn with meticulous precision, rested a pond, again a flawless circle, exactly in the middle of the clearing, as if someone had sketched the outline of two different-sized cups, one within the other, upon the ground.

It was unbelievably perfect.

Jasper inhaled deeply beside him. “I can feel them… the gods. Their presence lingers here, close.”

“I don’t know about gods, but I can feel the magic here. The energy … it feels like it’s crawling along my skin. Like little pricks in my skin,” Talia said, almost whispering, as if she were afraid to disturb something reverent and precious. “It pulls at me.”

“Funny,” Grace said, never one to fear being irreverent, wiggling one foot. “All I feel is this rock in my shoe.”

“Show some respect,” Jasper said harshly.

Osric didn’t look at them. He was focused on the pond. He didn’t know about what Jasper and Talia felt, but he knew he felt something. Deep in his stomach. Like a twisting.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a push against his knees. Looking down, he saw Cinder, lowered his head and butted the back of his knees again, as if pushing him forward. Osric took a step forward and felt the gentle pressure of Cinder’s muzzle, again urging him onward. Another step, and another, each pushed on by Cinder, until his boots met the water’s edge. The air around him grew warmer the closer he got to the pond, the sensation both frightening and comforting. It was a warmth he recognized, like when he got near the forge on a cold day, the heat settling and calming him.

Straightening his back, he took a step into the pond, feeling the ground squish under his boots. Cinder wasn’t pushing him on any longer, but he still pressed forward. Or was it pulled forward. He stepped in deeper, letting the water rise to his waist, feeling its warmth wrap around him, like a heated bath. Again, it felt almost … welcoming.

Osric turned to the others, intending to reassure them. “I don’t feel anything here, really, I...”

A force struck him, driving the words from his throat as his vision twisted and spun. The clearing around him faded into shadow, only for his senses to be swallowed by a vast, desolate landscape.

Osric found himself standing at the base of an ancient tower, spiraling high above him. Not a peaceful tower. The ground shook under his feet, making him feel as if he was going to fall over. The source of the quaking was easy to see as jagged mountains clawed their way upward through the ground, all around the tower. Cracks appeared in the earth, widening as if the world itself was tearing open, reforming the landscapes.

Through these tears in the ground, from their pitch black, grotesque shapes slithered and clawed their way into existence. Creatures of nightmare that defied reason, spilling out into the newly formed mountains, howling and writhing as if enraged by their own presence.

He was only able to watch them for a moment as the scene lurched and he found himself ascending, shooting upward to the tower’s summit, through a wall into its sealed peak. Inside, three men stood around an object, a twisted three-pointed star, lying flat on its side so each tip pointed in another direction, suspended in midair. Floating.

It gleamed, a strange, dark radiance swallowing the light, and within its depths, Osric felt the pull of endless black, a yawning void stretching into eternity. The men weren’t as entranced. Instead, their faces contorted in terror, mouths opening in screams that never reached his ears. Again, the reason for it was not hard to see.

Above them, above the deep black artifact, the air warped and split open with a tearing shriek as a wound in the veil appeared, pulsing with raw, unbridled energy. It was like the other tears he’d seen, but... more. What was certain was that, knowing what it was did not make it any more frightening.

Especially considering the other things that were happening.

As the veil tore, the star-like device quivered, trembling faster and faster, as if unbalanced, wobbling like a child’s toy, although one that was large enough that it could crush a man when it became too unbalanced and fell over.

It never reached that point. As it seemed about to flip over in its violent thrashing, fractures spread across its surface, hairline cracks erupting into jagged fissures, emitting a deep blue light from within. It pulsed erratically, thrumming with a dangerous, unstable power, shuddering until, with a violent snap, it ripped into three parts in a blinding explosion of light.

A wave of energy swept out from the broken pieces as it ruptured, throwing the men around it against the walls of the tower hard enough to break them. Shatter them. The wave passed through Osric, but he felt nothing. With the explosion of energy, two of the shards were pulled, sucked into the veil, disappearing into the hazy, unseen beyond, swallowed whole.

Then something unexpected happened. As the shards passed through the veil’s edges, it rippled and then closed around the pieces, almost as if the pieces pulled the tear shut behind them. The rip was gone, as if it never happened, aside from the carnage left behind. The third piece plummeted to the ground, striking the floor of the tower with a bone-jarring impact. The force sent splintering cracks across the stone, spidering outward, ripping the tile as though it were paper. As it hit, it released another surge of energy burst. This one Osric felt as it swept over him, sending him stumbling backward.

He felt himself falling, tumbling backward. As he fell, he saw... something. Not a vision. More like a single image, although this one was both less cryptic. And more.

It was a frozen image of Jasper standing over a young girl, his expression cold and angry as he looked down at her. The girl, in turn, looked up at him frightened, her eyes wide with dread, as though she wanted to flee but was rooted in place.

Osric felt something else as he looked at the image. Not only was it different than the first vision, being a single image, it also felt different. Osric wasn’t sure how, but he knew it wasn’t given to him in the same way. He didn’t know enough about magic, or gods, to know why or even how it felt different.

Just that it did.

Almost as soon as he had that realization, the image faded as Osric’s senses snapped back to the clearing. He was falling, the edge of the pond rushing up to meet him.

Strong hands caught Osric before he hit the ground. Coming to his senses, Osric looked up to see Rowan pulling him from the water and dragging him onto the dry ground. Water dripped from Osric’s clothes as he tried to get his bearings.

“What happened?” Talia asked, kneeling beside him.

“I had a vision,” Osric said. “A long one.”

“How?” Grace asked. “You stepped in the water and dropped like a stone.”

“Really? It didn’t feel like that. It was ... much more than that,” Osric said, pushing himself to sitting.

“The Blackstar. I saw it shatter. There was… a tower. It was surrounded by mountains that felt like they were tearing through the ground, out of farmland all around it. The whole landscape was changing, twisting into a few mountain peaks surrounded by hills. There were these horrible creatures coming out of the rips in the ground. They kind of reminded me of that beetle thing we faced in the temple. Inside the tower was a perfectly black, three-pointed artifact that had to be the Blackstar. I watched as a tear in the veil opened above it and ripped the artifact into three pieces. One dropped in the tower while the other two were sucked into the veil, pulling it closed behind them, like the document said it was.”

Rowan and Jasper turned and looked at each other. It wasn’t just a look. It was concern, even worry.

“What?”

“That sounds like the Claws,” Rowan said, almost dejectedly.

“The Claws?” Osric repeated, confused.

“It’s a mountain range, kind of,” Rowan said.

“Kind of a mountain range,” Jasper clarified. “It’s a cluster of peaks and jagged hills, not really a full range. Not something ever created by nature. Instead, they thrust up from the plains as if something from deep below forced them to the surface, just a few peaks with a ring of hills around it, like you described. Locals say the place is haunted, a cursed land.”

“People don’t go there,” Rowan added. “Anyone who’s been stupid enough to try never came back.”

“Well, that’s where we have to go,” Osric said.

“You heard the part where they said no one ever comes back from there, right?” Grace asked.

“I did, but the alternative is let the veil tear open and destroy everything. Either way, we’re dead. At least in these mountains, we have a chance.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Grace said.

“We will make it,” Jasper said. “Osric just spoke to the gods themselves, who blessed him with a vision. They will watch over us.”

Osric nodded along, glad he was reassuring them. He only wished he believed it himself.