CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ritual Killing

  Esg the pany of armed guards esc Bram’s aute back to Bastille would have been a difficult feat if Rowan wasn’t with him. True to her monicker of the Rebel Trickster, the redheaded maiden who’d sed out her oner’s clothes for her teal gambeson jured a fog so thick around the aute that the escorts following it began bumping into each other.

  “Watch where you’re riding!” warned a soldier with a gruff voice.

  “You’re the one who’s out of formation!” pined another.

  “I ot bloody see in this damned fog!” yelled a voice that sounded a lot like Vite Henry’s.

  Coupled with the dark clouds that appeared overhead to cover the twin moons in the sky, visibility on the dirt road had bee too horrible for the retinue’s jouro tinue.

  “Hold — hold!” Ser Anthony anded. “Stay in formation around the prince’s aute. We’ll wait until the fog clears!”

  “B-But, Ser,” came an urgent, anxious voice, “the aute…it’s not here!”

  The barking of panicked orders and the anxious neighing of harts filled the night, but her Bram nor Rowan would hear them. With the aid of her trickery, they’d slipped away into the darkness and took the aute back dowh they’d e from.

  “The fog,” Bram fidgeted in his seat because he couldn’t help feeling unfortable on this rough road they were on, “why did the sorcerers not notice you juring it?”

  “I didn’t use sorcery to summon the fog,” Rowan replied.

  One of Bram’s eyebrows twitched upward. “How did you ma then?”

  Rowan stared out the window. It would be a while ter before she would reply. “‘Tis an ability restricted to me and those like me…”

  There was a finality iohat kept Bram fr further, although he took note of her strange and sudden mencholy, st it in his mind for future iion.

  They tinued in sileheir secret jouraking them along a mountain path just beyond the town of Reise. This path climbed up to the side of the jagged mountain that Bram had scaled to reach the cursed cave where their fates had bee iwined.

  Later, whee pulled to a stop, a panel in the upholstered wall slid open.

  “We’ve arrived, Yhness,” said the soldier who’d drivee.

  Bram couldn’t help notig how the soldier’s eyes were gssy and unfocused. It was a telltale sign of sorcery at work.

  “Thank you,” he replied.

  Once Bram and Rowaed the aute, the trickster made its driver move over to the interior and thehe soldier in a deep sleep that would keep him there while the pair went about their business.

  “That’s ve…but how long will your spell st?” Bram asked as he shut the carriage door on the soldier who was sn loudly in his seat.

  “Long enough for us to finish our task,” Rowan answered, a slight frown on her lips. “Are you certain you would rather not use him?”

  Her crimson-eyed gaze remained fixed on the carriage door.

  “We will need blood for the summoning. As much as a grown man carry,” she insisted.

  “You said it be human blood.” Bram’s gaze drifted to the tall oaks on the ridge above. “There are plenty of fel beasts who live on Sundermount. Shouldn’t their blood suffice?”

  “The blood of beasts is acceptable,” Rowaed, but couldn’t help adding, “though human blood’s more potent in emp sorcery, and thus more preferable.”

  “Then use mine,” Bram replied in ear.

  He might be willing to sacrifice the lives of others for their great uaking, but not if it wasn’t necessary. The prince wasn’t like the other royals and high nobles who treated the lives of oners so carelessly. Indeed, he could hink lowly of them since being around oners had helped to keep Bram sane when he was younger.

  As he thought this, he recalled some of those oners who’d saved him from a youth filled with loneliness.

  There was Aimé, one of the pace’s assistant cooks who’d alrepared Bram’s favorite treats after every time he’d been bullied by his siblings. The cook himself had been tormented by the pace’s head chef, one of noble blood who’d loved to berate his underling for ckluster dishes he’d prepared himself.

  There was the vivacious Willow of the Soft Touch, a dy of the Pillow Court who’d taught Bram the delights of the flesh. Whehey’d fiheir passionate embrace, she’d always offered him a kind ear and listeo his troubles, and she’d never asked him to pay extra.

  There were also the Lost Boys and Girls, a gang of children from the capital’s slums who’d treated Bram as one of their own. They’d pyed with him when no nobles would, teag him Hide and Seek and ames of d intrigue that eventually led Bram to the Delightful Troupe’s door.

  Most retly, Bram had a wonderful time camping outdoors while in the pany of the Mighty Greenwood Gang who’d show him mrad respect than any noble had.

  Such experiences with oners have reinforced Bram’s belief that one’s blood didn’t determiheir worth. Not really.

  “It’s what we do that matters,” Bram whispered, though Rowan heard him.

  She watched him ready their climbing gear with a thoughtful smile as if she’d listeo his thoughts. It was a smile she’d never shown before that vanished by the time Bram looked up from his work.

  “Is there something on my face?”

  Rowan shook her head.

  “Nothing,” she fshed him her usual impish grin, “though we won’t be needing the rope.”

  “I’ve tasted your unrivaled strength myself, but trust me,” Bram raised the roll of hemp rope to her eye level while recalling how he wished he had one during his previous climb, “this will save—”

  It happened so quickly that Bram’s jaw barely had time to drop before Rowan was standing beside him and her arms ed around his waist.

  “ch your jaw,” she instructed.

  A momehe ground was gone, and they were s up into the sky at a speed that was faster even than a magic arrow in flight. The harsh winds buffeted Bram’s face while the chill of the mountain air seeped into his bones. Surprisingly, the prince didn’t mind these inveniences. Bram discovered that he enjoyed flying even if it was only doh Rowan’s aid. It was a short maiden voyage for him though, and soon enough, they touched down on the familiar rocky ground of the ledge that led to the cursed cave.

  “That was…brilliant!” Bram said, breathless.

  His face shoh delight. It was a delight that was quick to pass, however, for Bram felt sudden nausea overwhelm him, and then he was on his knees and puking what was left of lun onto the rocky ground.

  “Wait for me here,” Rowan suggested, “and try not to get any of it on you.”

  The sound of his retg tinued. It was the only response Rowan would get before she disappeared into the air.

  Wherickster returned a short while ter, the prince was sitting on an outcropping of rod feeling much better, though his face was still pale from the ordeal. It grew paler still once he noticed what Rowan dropped on the grouween them.

  “Is that…”

  Even curled and unscious, the shaggy beast with russet fur was noticeably rge. Eight feet tall and six hundred pounds by Bram’s reing.

  “…A red grizzly?”

  Of the mas that called Sundermount home, the red grizzly was known to be one of the most savage. It was a well-known mahat attacked people who stumbled upon it without any provocation. Hunting a red grizzly in so short a time was a feat that even Ser Anthony couldn’t have easily managed, and his seneschal was once a celebrated champion of the Sn-guard.

  “Impressed?” Rowan asked.

  “Undoubtedly,” Bram nodded. “Is it…dead?”

  The trickster shook her head.

  “The beast’s blood must be warm for the ritual.” Rowahe muscles peeking through Bram’s loose shirt. “ you carry it into the cave?”

  “Of course,” Bram answered fidently. “I o be of some use in this quest.”

  The prince walked over to the red grizzly whose thick, furry chest was rising and falling in slow, bored breaths.

  “You’ve put it to sleep?” Bram asked.

  “There was no need for sorcery”—Rowan raised her hand and then ched it—“when a single fist was enough to shake its sciousness loose.”

  “Ah, yes, I see it now.”

  A tiny bit of blood coated the red grizzly’s snout. It seemed to have lost several of its fangs too. There was, however, a bigger issue besides w whether the beast would wake up during transit.

  Bram’s gaze drifted to the nearby hole in the wall with its familiar warning carved over it. “It won’t fit through the narrow passage leading into the dungeon…”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Rowan assured him.

  She strode over to the hole in the cliff wall whose edges revealed the tell-tale signs of aryway hewn from rock eroded by time.

  “Mae popeth yn newid mewn amser…”

  It was the beginning of a plicated intation spoken in a nguage that sounded as alien to Bram as the words he’d learned from his visions. When her voice reached a cresdo, Rowan waved her hands over the entrance, and with crimson sparks fring from the tips of her fingers, a great rumbling began. With that rumbling came violent ge—the rock surrounding the entrance broke apart, folding into itself like the cogs of a great mae, and then ref into nees with perfect detailing.

  “Sorcery to manipute matter at will,” Bram whispered in awe.

  At its core, sorcery was the art of altering one’s surroundings to meet the caster’s demands, but the kind of magic Rowan dispyed now was leagues beyond what even the grand sorcerers of the Sn’s court could jure.

  “I’ve read about this — the long-lost sorcery of the Transmutation Arts,” Bram recalled the name of the a magic whose knowledge had been lost to the Imperium, its fleeting trail remembered only in the most obscure of books. “Incredible, I’ve bee wito history’s hand reag out to the present from a fotten past.”

  Before Bram’s very eyes, the cave opening achieved a new form; a projeg doorway of massive stoh an arched ceiling raised high by the twin pilrs standing to either side of the now expanded entrance. Both pilrs had been carved into the shape of a warrior woman who wore a gambeson and sweeping dress like the ones Roearing, with both statues carrying swords aloft in their hands.

  This ryway had been made with sutricate detailing that Bram couldn’t help admiring Rowan’s artistry.

  “You are breathtaking…” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the words spilled from his lips unbidden.

  Bram coughed embarrassedly.

  “I only meant that your talent is impressive,” he finished mely.

  To witness supelling sorcery strengthened his belief irickster’s power to see his wish fulfilled, though he couldn’t express his thoughts properly in words. It wasn’t necessary, however, for Rowan gnced back at Bram with uanding.

  “‘Tis not yet the time to be amazed, My Prince,” she said, her impish smile returning. “e. There’s more sorcery to be done before this night is over.”

  “O-Of course,” he agreed.

  Bram gathered all the strength in his body to help him lift the red grizzly’s lower half onto his shoulders. This was a great feat of strength that few could mahout the aid of sorcery, but the prince had honed his body to such extremes that half-carrying, half-dragging a beast weighing more than five hundred pounds seemed a doable challenge.

  “Are you certain you don’t require my help?” Rowan asked.

  “This is…nothing…” Bram’s arms shook from the strain, but he didn’t pin. “Lead the…way.”

  Later, much ter thanks to the slow pace at which Bram carried his burden—insistent as he was not to share the load with Rowan who he believed had dooo much already—the trickster and the priuro the pce where their acquaintanceship first bloomed.

  As Rowan crossed the threshold of the long-fotten temple, light fred from the a sunstones hanging at intervals around the spiral chamber. When Bram followed her, a new notification appeared in the air.

  ALERT! You have ehe dungeon [Innoce Lost]. With your body now suited to receiving the system’s boons, the reward for being the first person to visit the dungeon is nolied. For the remaining four days, the experiee and item-drop rate are doubled while expl the dungeon.“There’s not much point”—Bram dropped his heavy burden oone floor—“to this boon now.”

  Instant relief flooded his body, and he began to stretch his tired limbs.

  “I’d rather have ohat will give me tangible bes.”

  A notification popped up as if it had been waiting for his pint.

  GRATULATIONS! You’ve pushed yourself to new heights, increasing your Strength [+1] and Willpower [+1].“Finally.” Bram had been w how he was supposed to grow if he couldn’t earn experienally, but it seemed the Loom took his efforts into at as well. Unfortunately, this also meant the difficulty of his training o be increased for Bram to be from this reward system. “Fuck…”

  The dungeon of ‘Innoce Lost’ was a temple-like structure with a weathered vaulted ceiling. The spiral markings engraved on its stone floor and the small round crevice at its ter where the terpiece of this chamber. There, in the very spot where she was freed from perdition, the rebel trickster awaited her liberator.

  “Do you—”

  Before Bram could finish his sentence, a spear formed of blood shot out of Rowan’s palm to pierce the hide of the unscirizzly.

  The pain woke the beast, and with a mighty roar, the red grizzly rose to its haunches and hurled a thick, shaggy arm at Bram who stood closest. Cws the size of scullery knives reached out for his face, but Bram weaved out of its way and then slid back to avoid the other arm from hitting his side.

  “Why wake it up now?!” he pined.

  The red grizzly roared. Its bellow shook the ground, ripping across the chamber like a peel of thunder. It lunged for Bram once more, but a sed ‘Blood Spear’ struck the beast’s shoulder before it could take another swipe at him.

  “Sorcery as demanding as a summoning ritual requires a violent ending,” Rowan expined. “Now, focus!”

  “A little warniime…” Taking advantage of its momentary daze, Bram drew his sword from its sheath and the its bde swiftly across the red grizzly’s outstretched neck. “…would be appreciated!”

  Blood gushed out of the savage cut he dealt the red grizzly, but the beast seemed i not to die alo rushed forward with berserker fury and would’ve skewered Bram in the chest with its cws if a third ‘Blood Spear’ hadn’t struck its other shoulder. This caused the beast to stumble right into Bram’s sword which pierced its hide at the st sed.

  With a final pain-filled roar, the red grizzly crashed onto the floor by the prince’s feet.

  Bram was wide-eyed and breathless. “Bloody hell…that was close.”

  His hands shook while he retrieved his sword from the chest of the beast that had shown such ferocity that he thought the stories of its savagery seemed modest pared to the real thing. It would’ve killed him if Rowan hadn’t critically wou first. It certainly killed Bram’s sword. Its bde, which was already cracked from the earlier fight, broke off as he pulled at the sword’s hilt.

  “So much for bastion-fed steel,” Bram sighed.

  GRATULATIONS! You are the first user to sy a [Red Grizzly]! The first kill bonus will be added to EXP earned.You earned 120 EXP.ALERT! Dungeon bonus is applied. 240 EXP earned.ALERT! [Administrator Lv. 1] prevents you from earning job EXP.Bram sighed as he returned his broken sword to its sheath. “One day you’ll be o me and I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  His gaze drifted back to the beast’s corpse.

  It’s different…

  The weight of sying a beast weighed much less on his mind than the killing of other men. Although perhaps he was simply getting used to the aurder. It was a thought that made Bram’s shoulders shake though he tried hard not to let guilt ruin the moment.

  With the red grizzly’s death, the blood poolih it was carried away by the grooves ione floor. A line of red was formed, spiraling ever closer to the round crevice at the heart of the chamber.

  “‘Tis time,” Rowan insisted. “I shall begin.”

  The trickster who’d been standing beside the hole raised her feet o a time and then folded herself into the lotus position. She sat cross-legged in the air as if there was an invisible chair underh her.

  “e to me, My Prince.”

  An exhausted Bram walked over to her while taking care not to disturb the line of blood flowing on the floor.

  “Take my hands,” Rowan instructed. “The physical e will strengthen our mental bond, allowio peer into the other world of your visions.”

  When Bram pced his hands over hers, he asked. “And what am I to do?”

  “Think of a mortal you believe we’ll need most to create…” Rowan’s face turned ptive. “…What did you call it again?”

  “A virtual reality game,” Bram answered.

  “Yes. That.” Her fiightened around his. “Think of the otherworlder who help build the illusion of your virtual reality game…and I shall drag this unfortunate soul into Aarde…”

  CHAPTER OUT IN 2 MINUTES!

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