The sun had set and neither of the Dusk rank warriors had woken up. The fire was warm, and Ethan was nursing a cup of renewing tea as he waited, lost in thought. He’d worried that he would fear the darkness after leaving the cell, but as he gazed up at the clear night sky, he realized his only true fear was captivity. I won’t be locked up again, he promised himself.

  He’d decided not to try to move his two heavy companions out of the forest, despite entertaining the idea of some kind of litter. They were too deep in the woods for it to be practical, and he couldn’t be sure they’d defeated every demon. He didn’t enjoy the thought of being ambushed in his current state, let alone having to defend the others. At least here in the clearing they’d have some warning if an enemy burst from the trees.

  Ethan absently rubbed his chest as he kept watch. Deevee was still silent inside him, though he felt the hydra’s presence distantly. It was unnerving, his Familiars having truly become constant companions. It had also been the first time Ethan had lost such a powerful advantage in combat, and he resolved to be more careful with the delicate little creatures in the future.

  As he’d waited for the others to wake up, he amused himself by experimenting with his new ability.

  Ability: Ghost Among the Reeds (Dawn Rank 0: 0%)

  Type: Mystic, Illusion, Persistent, Retribution

  (Low Mana cost, Variable) Create a persistent illusion of a target, which will perform actions of your choosing until destroyed, or until mana is consumed. Can target self, and up to three illusions may be created. Additional mana can be spent to extend the duration of illusion.

  (High Mana cost) Identical to low mana cost version, but gains the retribution effect.

  [Retribution] Illusions absorb all damage they receive, storing it until the illusion is destroyed. Upon destruction, a portion of that damage is returned to the aggressor.

  It continued the trend of his other Mystic abilities, both in its utility focus, and the complexity. With a thought, he conjured a ‘Ghost’ next to him. A perfect copy of him burst into being, though unlike [Hydra’s Reflection] he didn’t control its every action. Instead, he sent vague directions to the illusion which carried them out with surprising capability.

  Right now the ‘other Ethan’ looked like it was sharing tea with him, but he’d already tested it with more complex instructions like light combat, and social interactions. It could make sounds, and even ‘use’ his abilities, though it was all part of the illusion, and the more it did, the faster the mana drained away.

  Still, it was an enormously versatile power, and just what he needed to convince the royals that he could imitate Prince Calevaro. More than that, he had already considered some ways he could ensure the prince won the duel with the assistance of this power. It had a significant drawback, however.

  It was in illusion, and not a conjuration–a very important distinction. While it was persistent–meaning it would remain in place even when he cycled away from Mystic–it couldn’t actually be touched, or interact with the world. The illusion could simulate being damaged by an attack, presenting wounds and injuries, but actually being touched by an opponent would immediately make the deception clear.

  This meant the Ghosts were better off being used at range, where the damage from long distance attacks could be simulated. Thankfully the illusions could also mimic [Dimensional Mantle], making it appear that physical attacks were simply being ignored, the way Ethan did himself. Still, they couldn’t attack in turn, as their ‘weapons’ would pass right through an enemy.

  It was another highly valuable, but highly tactical ability for Ethan to work with. Once again he recognized that he’d be perfecting his strategies with the ability for a long time before he’d master it. The Ruin ability he’d unlocked on the other hand, was a natural evolution of his current fighting style, though he wouldn’t be able to test it without a living enemy.

  At last Savilar stirred, and Ethan dismissed his Ghost. The man’s long dark hair was dirty and hanging loose, and his pale skin made him look like someone who’d been sick for weeks. Thankfully it was clear he’d made it past the worst of the poison, his Dusk rank constitution and Regeneration Rune having shown their value.

  The Rift Hunter’s head whipped around as he assessed the situation, then put a hand to his temple and groaned. “Shouldn’t have done that,” he grumbled. When he opened his eyes again he looked more relaxed, though obviously not well. “Did it work? I passed out in the middle of the bloody spell.”

  Ethan smiled slightly. “It worked. You cut the big one in half, and not a moment too soon. Valanor's ability had already failed.”

  Sav nodded. “Aye, that’s why he hates that one. It’s from his Guardian Affinity, and it’s meant to use mana from all three Bonds. Hasn’t worked right since–well, you know.” He paused, looking Ethan over. “Don’t take this the wrong way–I’m glad you two showed up–but last I heard you were in the Deep Cell.”

  “Valanor got me out. He’s taken responsibility for me…making sure I don’t do anything else to offend your Goddess.”

  Surprisingly, Savilar barked a laugh. “I heard about that. I’m sorry you were lumped in with the pretenders. I don’t know what it’s like for you, being here, with your Terran skills. But I promise you I’ve seen people truly taken advantage of by manipulators with claims of miracles, and it is true darkness. Desperate people giving up everything they have to false men with big promises.”

  “We call them snake-oil salesmen on my world. Sadly there’s always those who will take advantage of people in need. But that isn’t me.” Ethan was having a hard time keeping the vitriol from his voice. Savilar was too close to the Church to completely avoid the fury that burned hot inside the former doctor.

  Again, Savilar surprised him. “I know. You tried to save Hunters. No one who does what we do, and sees what we see would begrudge you for that. For what it’s worth, mine was one of the voices speaking out for mercy. In fact, all of the Rift Hunters were behind you.”

  Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “Really? I didn’t realize my…situation was so well known.”

  “Not entirely–not the whole truth at least. But word travels. A foreign Hunter saved a village from bandits, killed that traitorous bastard Gunther and then saved a knight. You’ll find you’re a little more famous than you may like. Regardless, we stood with you. Though there are fewer of us left to stand,” he finished sadly.

  Ethan winced. It was only his second day out of the cell, and Empathy was slow in returning. “I heard what happened to your team. I’m sorry.”

  Savilar didn’t respond at first, just staring into the fire. “I told you that we’ve lost many brothers and sisters over the years. But it never gets easier.”

  “Who was responsible? If you’re not ready to talk–”

  “No, I’m more than ready. I’ll shout from the bloody rooftops of Corvale if it keeps other Hunters safe. But I don’t know who they were. No identifying marks, and dressed as commoners. We thought they were merchants when we saw them on the road. It was only when I looked into the Astral that I realized the truth.”

  His face scrunched in rage. “Stealth specialists, every damn one. They were ready for us, magical items to distract and confuse while they faded into the shadows. It was only my rank that saved me. Tess, Barns, and Gregory were brutally injured before they could even react.”

  Ethan didn’t speak, not wanting to interrupt, and having nothing to add but questions. Savilar continued after a few moments of quiet. “I managed to take two of them down, but it was too late. They took their dead and ran.”

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  Ethan fed the fire, and gave some renewing tea to the Rift Hunter as he brought out some food to start cooking. Eventually he looked at Valanor, feeling a touch of concern. “Is he going to be alright?”

  Sav snorted, a bit of his old humor returning. “He’ll sleep it off,” he said. “He better, at least. I need his help.”

  “Oh really? What with?”

  Savilar sighed. “I need him to join the Brightsouls, though honestly I don’t expect him to.”

  “Really? You’re going to keep competing?” Ethan asked, unable to hide his surprise.

  “I have to. We’re–I–am the only Rift Hunter left competing this year. I don’t think I can explain how significant the tradition is. Nearly two centuries and the Rift Hunters have been represented every time. Do you know about Dimensional Bleeds?”

  “Not much,” Ethan said, his curiosity piqued.

  “They’re dangerous, and often provide opportunities for power, but that’s not what matters to us. What matters is that they always contain rifts. Permanent rifts.”

  “I never thought about how long rifts last,” Ethan confessed. “I assumed they needed to be closed.” He realized that wasn’t true as he said it, recalling that the rift that had brought him here had closed immediately after.

  “It varies greatly, but few are as dangerous as those that come with the Bleeds. Demons will flow out until we stop them. The Forgotten city has dozens. It requires a full contingent of Hunters on site year round. The doorways let things out, but we have to wait a full year to get back in.”

  Ethan considered. “So you need to get in, and close the remaining rifts?”

  Savilar shook his head. “Try to close the rifts. It’s taken centuries for a reason. I’ve been inside a few times before, and it’s a deadly place. But I must get back there. I can’t allow another group to waste this opportunity in hopes of a chance at some treasure.”

  “So you need to rebuild the Brightsouls?” he asked. “Aren’t there other Rift Hunters who’d want to go?”

  “If it’s our only chance, I might risk it. But there’s only a few teams, and they’re always roaming the kingdom Hunting. People don’t have any real idea of just how many rifts there are these days. The Brightsouls were given the easiest patrols specifically so we could participate in the Tournament.”

  “I see. I didn’t realize.”

  “I can’t even sit back and coast on the points we have,” Savilar said bitterly. “There’s too much time left, and the final few months always brings up unusual opportunities to get ahead, such as the upcoming arena matches. I need an active team, and that means recruiting.”

  Savilar clapped his hands suddenly, as if banishing the conversation. “Enough moping for tonight. We closed a bloody Dusk rank rift, and we should be celebrating. Did you loot the bastards?”

  Ethan smiled, tossing the man an item from his inventory. “[Pounding Drum],” he announced. “Dusk rank amulet that makes blunt weapons hit harder with every strike–as long as you keep attacking. Should be nice for someone who bashes things with maces.”

  Savilar grinned, inspecting the piece of jewelry that did indeed look like a small metal drum. “That’s remarkable. The magic items sold in Viridus are pathetic. All generic trash–I could never find something this specific.”

  Ethan placed an elaborate helmet next to Valanor. “I’m not sure he’ll wear it, given the color, but it’s a decent vanguard helm”

  “Our smiths can change colors,” Savilar assured him. “Only their enchantments are an embarrassment. Did you find anything for yourself?”

  Ethan grinned. “Sort of,” he said, revealing a spiked collar. “I think this will look better on Revan.”

  Venomous Vendetta [Dawn Rank] Rare

  Special Effect: [Creeping Rot]

  When worn, this collar enchants the melee attacks of the wearer, increasing their slashing damage by a small amount, and adding [Creeping Rot] affliction.

  [Creeping Rot]

  Targets afflicted by this status effect will take continuous damage over time, and their movements will become sluggish and uncoordinated. Higher ranked targets are more likely to resist the affliction. Stacks of this affliction will fade based on the constitution of the target.

  “I didn’t even know Familiars could use equipment,” Ethan said after describing the collar to Savilar.

  “It’s the same problem: Viridus just doesn’t have the craftspeople. I don’t get to travel much, but when I do I stop at every market I can.” The Rift Hunter stretched, then accepted a cut of aprum meat, which thankfully tasted enough like pork that Ethan could eat it comfortably.

  “I think I’m going to pass out again,” Savilar announced as he finished. “Thanks for dinner, it was oddly invigorating. Tomorrow you can help me convince Valanor to join the Brightsouls. Trust me, the man needs action and adventure or he becomes even more miserable.”

  “Good night, Sav,” Ethan said, ignoring the request for now. He needed to think…

  The dark haired man turned back to him. “Bishop,” he said in a more serious tone. “Thank you for coming for me.” He laid back down without waiting for a response.

  ***

  Ethan followed Selina into the Rune Guild’s archives. They were in the basement, which was dusty, and the air tasted ancient. Several glowstones flickered to life as they walked through the line of shelves, though even more stayed dark. “The records should be down here,” the red skinned woman said.

  “Is there anything you don’t record?” he asked, taking in the seemingly endless books, some meticulously organized, while others lay haphazardly on the floor and tables.

  “Record keeping is an important part of our role. We’re historians of the realms, in a sense. It’s an old tradition from The Wars. Back when entire nations were being wiped out by Bonded, so much knowledge was lost. The Rune Guild stepped in.”

  “That’s hard to imagine, Bonded going to war,” Ethan said.

  “A lot of it is lost to time,” the Nator said with a shrug. “There was simply too much power being thrown around. It was mostly over around sixteen hundred years ago. It’s been relatively peaceful by comparison ever since. Oh! Here we go.”

  Ethan followed her down an aisle that he would have sworn was identical to every other one they’d passed. Dozens of black, leather-bound books were shelved, with only a few runes on the spines to differentiate them. Selina picked a specific one up almost immediately.

  “I come down here a lot for new books to read, though it’s disgusting and I usually leave quickly. So you wanted to know about the early years of the Forgotten City?”

  “I do. Savilar mentioned it yesterday, and has been harassing Valanor to join him in the Grand Tournament. I want to know more about it.”

  “Well this is the right book then,” she said, bringing it to a dusty table. She made an irritated sound while she cleared it. “Let’s see…” she said, scanning through what looked like an index. “Ah, here we are. This record is from one hundred and ninety one years ago–that was when the Church reported the Dimensional Bleed.”

  Ethan frowned. “It was the Church that found it?” he asked.

  “Church Rift Hunters, yes. That’s not unusual; they’re the ones spending their lives searching for rifts, and Bleeds always have rifts.”

  “Right, and this is the hundred and eighty-seventh tournament. So there was a few years before people started going in?”

  Selina scanned through the text, mumbling to herself and turning pages. “Yes? No. It looks like the Tournament was actually some kind of compromise with the royal family. The Church wanted to continue to explore alone…Oh, ‘continue’, I suppose. They were already going in.”

  “Potentially for years…” Ethan said, musing. “Selina, does it mention what we’re supposed to be looking for in there? I only ever get vague answers about treasure when I ask other Hunters.”

  “No, I already read that part. The royal family wanted in because the city contained ‘various treasures of considerable value’. There’s no mention of a specific target, or location inside.”

  “Hmm,” Ethan said, his mind turning.

  “Ethan, what are we doing here in this horrible basement? There are centipedes down here Ethan. If one touches me I will kill it, and you, possibly not in that order.”

  “Sorry,” he said with a small smile. “I was just curious about what makes the Forgotten City so special. Savilar was remarkably insistent on getting inside. Apparently the Church gets in every year.”

  “Oh that’s a certainty,” Selina confirmed. “They always have some truly powerful members of the Rift Hunters competing. It’s become an expectation that one of the slots will always go to them–everyone else is really competing for the other two doors.”

  Ethan smiled wider then, and Selina glared. “The centipedes are as large as my forearm, Ethan. What are you smiling about?”

  “Just thinking about joining the Brightsouls, Selina.” Because I finally found something that doesn’t fit. Something that the Church wants.

  The smile became a grin. And I’m going to take it.