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“TEMPTING INVITATION, but I’m gonna pass”.
My response made the troll frown.
“You must not have heard when I said you cannot simply leave.”
“Look, I don’t doubt that this is a nice place, but I still just have to go.”
As I spoke, I was staring pointedly at the gloomy stone parapet and cracked floor of the observation deck.
The Gatekeeper rolled his eyes back with a heavy sigh and said:
“Not gonna happen.”
“I thought we had no quarrel.”
“That’s right,” the troll nodded. “And that’s the reason you’re still alive. Other contenders... ones like you, didn’t get so lucky.”
“Ones like me?” the Gatekeeper’s caveat caught my attention.
The troll winced. He must have said more than he intended. But nevertheless he responded, nodding at the floor beneath my feet:
“When someone kills an agent of chaos, then activates the manuscript, they come through this here portal. And I greet them.”
I took another look at the stone slabs underfoot. Here and there, I could make out faded writing on the time-weathered stone. It finally hit me. This whole viewing platform is itself the portal. But then why isn’t it reacting to me?
“Figure it out?” the Gatekeeper snarled.
“Are you blocking the portal?” I asked, dumbfounded.
The troll snorted.
“Not me.”
“Then who? Actually, just a sec... It’s the Great System!”
“Well then, took you long enough.”
“Are you trying to say that when I agreed to take part in this test of yours, I made it so I can’t leave?” Then, not waiting for the obvious answer, I asked another question: “Is there any way to remedy this?”
“Yes,” the troll nodded. “But why?”
“I’m in a hurry.”
The big guy snorted, puzzled.
“That’s odd. Lots of people would give half their life for the chance to come here and get stronger. But you just keep trying to run away. I don’t get it.”
“I’m in a hurry,” I repeated insistently, though the phrase “get stronger” did pique my interest.
The troll shrugged his shoulders lethargically. As if to say it was not his problem. And turned sideways and motioned at the door.
“You said there’s a way to remedy this,” I continued to insist.
Seeing that I was not going to budge, the Gatekeeper breathed a heavy sigh. Knowing how trolls could be, he must have been struggling to keep himself together. Just how long can my amulet keep this big brute’s fury at bay?
Having partially overcome his irritation, the Gatekeeper ran his wide hand over his eyes just like a person and said slowly:
“There are ways. For example, the magister of our faction can expel contenders for dereliction. To be frank, if I were magister, I’d do just that.”
Seemingly, my unwillingness to partake in the mysteries of chaos was frustrating him more than my stubbornness.
“In any case, you’ll come to know everything soon enough. The magister always has a personal conversation with every new contender. Let’s go.”
After he said that, the troll turned and headed toward a dark passageway. He took a few steps inside, turned his head a bit and said gloomily:
“There’s something I think you should know. You are the first newcomer to step through these doors in the last two hundred years.”
My indignance and anger retreated. But before apathy fully paralyzed my ability to reason, my brain started feverishly analyzing my circumstances.
My eyes bored into the troll’s broad back as he receded. No level, no figures. Just one laconic word hovering above his head: Gatekeeper. Just what is this troll capable of? In the two hundred years he’d been standing watch, his mettle had probably been tested a fair number of times. That combined with the fact that manuscripts are probably only given out for killing relatively high-level forces of chaos adds up to a pretty stark conclusion. This troll could probably easily go toe to toe with the Primordials. Thank the gods we didn’t have to fight.
With a heavy sigh, I followed after the Gatekeeper. If I had to meet the magister before I could leave, oh well ― so be it.
* * *
WE CAME DOWN A STONE staircase and walked down a few darkened corridors, then stopped in front of a wide door.
“You’ll have to wait here for a bit,” the troll told me, opening the door and inviting me into a fairly spacious room. “I must inform the magister of your arrival.”
In no hurry to cross the threshold, I took a quick look around. Stone walls, a wide cot, a hefty crudely constructed stool and a table. The somber overall picture was completed by a narrow window fitted with a grate. Through it, I could see lightning flickering from the storm that had just reached the citadel.
“Looks a lot like a prison cell,” I said with skepticism.
The Gatekeeper scrutinized the room’s interior and shrugged his shoulders vaguely.
“Never thought about it like that,” he muttered in embarrassment.
The troll’s reaction caught me off guard. It was as if I had offended him. Then it suddenly hit me.
“One second,” I started, furrowing my brow. “Do you live here?”
The troll nodded and said:
“You are a friend to trollkind. I must be hospitable.”
I felt my face flare red. How awkward.
“I didn’t...”
“It’s fine,” the Gatekeeper interrupted me. “I haven’t had guests in ages. Go in. Make yourself at home. There’s nothing to be afraid of in there. You have my word.”
Now in the room, I took a few steps in and turned.
Before closing the door after himself, the troll quietly added:
“You’re right though ― this place really is like a prison. I used to think so, too.”
I didn’t know how to react. Did that mean the troll had been brought here against his will or was it just a figure of speech? I didn’t really care. What matters is leaving this place as quickly as possible, though not without first determining my precise location. After all, I still don’t know what part of my world I’m in. As soon as I got myself back together, squirreling away all the sorrow in the deepest reaches of my subconscious, my brain started tossing out questions I should have considered earlier.
The first thing I did after clambering up onto the bulky stool was summon the harn. I greeted Gorgie’s arrival with a sigh of relief. My friend sensed my mood and, trying to cheer me up, poked his flat forehead into my shoulder and licked my cheek with his hot tongue.
“I’ll never see her again,” I whispered, squeezing Mink’s little doll in my hands, horrified at the words.
“Hrn...”
“You’re right, bro. This is not the time to wallow. Let’s make good use of this little breather. Something is telling me that we won’t get another chance like this anytime soon.”
I wanted to start tallying up my loot, but Gorgie unexpectedly gave a warning growl and, a second later, the door began to open. The Gatekeeper was back.
He’s quick. Somehow too quick.
All I had time to do before the door opened was recall Gorgie. I was not planning on showing off my pet just yet. But when I saw who was standing in the doorway, I instantly regretted not having him at my side.
The Lady of the Anomaly! Jorogumo! The Black Widow in the flesh. She was standing in the doorframe and smiling pensively, revealing a pearly white set of fangs.
I was about to activate my shields, but the troll chimed in from behind the Black Widow and stopped me.
“This is our magister,” he droned. “And this is the new contender. He...”
“Murdered my sister,” the woman finished his sentence and stepped through the door.
I tried to gulp, but my throat was too raspy.
A moment later, the troll’s hefty figure appeared in the doorway. His entire appearance indicated profound discomfort. Very soon I realized why.
“And you found him worthy?” the magister asked with a mocking edge, boring into me with her gaze the entire time.
“Yes, magister!” the Gatekeeper answered firmly. Meanwhile, he straightened up and splayed his shoulders.
“Curious,” the magister snorted.
I couldn’t say for certain what exactly she found curious – the troll’s response, or the fact she was not able to probe me with her mental magic. The system had faithfully reported that she had already attempted to use various spells on me three times.
“Well then, what do you have to say for yourself?” she finally turned to me.
The magister’s failures encouraged me. My Will had pulled it off. How could you not be encouraged by that?
“I’d like to leave this place,” I answered as calmly and politely as I could. “And I already know that I shouldn’t have activated the manuscript, but the way it all worked out I didn’t have much of a choice...”
Not letting me finish, the magister cut me off.
“He’s actually pretty tough, eh?” she asked the troll, continuing to bore into me with her eyes. And then she shot out: “So tell me, how were you able to take down my sister?”
“Me? I didn’t,” I answered curtly. I didn’t much like the way she was talking to me.
“And yet she is no more,” the magister frowned.
“Yes,” I nodded. “The Heart of the Forest tore her to shreds before my very eyes.”
When the magister heard mention of the Heart of the Forest, she gave a slight shudder, but immediately got herself in hand. I though was pleased by the effect my words were having. I was also amazed at myself deep down. Here I am standing two steps away from someone who’s sister I had a hand in killing, and I’m acting flagrant. Anyone else would be cowering under the stool in terror by this point, but I’m not particularly bothered. Where am I getting all this reckless abandon? Is it perhaps because I don’t feel threatened by either the magister or her Gatekeeper? In fact, they’re looking at me the same way. It’s like they’re sizing me up. Has the test maybe already begun, and they forgot to tell me?
“Heart of the Forest you say?” the magister asked thoughtfully. It was plain to see that the news of her twin sister’s death didn’t bother her in the least. More the opposite. I could hear notes of joy and seemingly relief in her voice.
“She brought it on herself,” suddenly tore itself from me.
“What do you mean?” the magister asked, curious.
“She was able to somehow subjugate the Heart of the Forest and create a dangerous anomaly. And it was starting to get bigger and more powerful. She transformed every creature that lived in the forest, turning them into hideous monsters. The Woodwose...”
“Did you say the Woodwose?” the magister shuddered and took a step forward.
“Yes,” I nodded slowly.
“Hm... Now I see... Still, keep going. I’m intrigued.”
“Well there’s not really much more to tell,” I shrugged. “The Woodwose used me as a distraction. And when hm... your sister lost control, the Heart of the Forest seized its chance.”
The magister chuckled:
“Sounds just like him...”
Even an idiot could tell who she was talking about. The old woodsman was a master manipulator. She must have known him personally. Another thing I realized was that she must have known where her sister was. After all, the old man had clearly led me to believe that there had been several of his kind once upon a time.
“So then, what makes you want to leave?” the magister asked unexpectedly.
“I’m in a hurry.”
“Explain,” she demanded shortly. “The thing is, I don’t understand what could be better than unity with one of the elements. Chances like this come but once in a lifetime, and only to a select few.”
I understood that whether or not I would get out of the test depended on her, so I tried to be convincing.
“My friends have been taken prisoner. I have to save them.”
“And who has taken them prisoner?” the magister asked.
“The Steel King.”
“Is that so?” her brows shot upward. “The more we talk, the more questions I have. And just how were you planning to break your friends out of his dungeon? I of course don’t mean to cast aspersions on your talents and abilities, but nevertheless... How could a zero such as yourself, unusual though you may be, stand up to one of the most powerful entities in this entire world? And that’s not the whole of it. I have reason to believe he also has several Primordials at his command.”
It felt like I had been living with a dusty old sack over my head. The world I thought I knew had just expanded from a tiny dot into a whole vast universe.
“I see you didn’t have the foggiest notion about the true might of the man Fortuna brought into your path.” The magister chuckled. “By the way, what’s in it for him? If he’s holding your friends in his dungeon you must be valuable to him. But how? I can see that you descend from the Ancients without any system info, but there must be something else. Right?”
My insistent silence brought a smile to her face which looked more like a predatory scowl.
The magister turned to the troll and said:
“Good thing you didn’t kill him. I still can’t figure out why though. But you can tell me that later. Looks like our faction has had the kind of luck that only comes around once every few centuries. A very promising contender. Chaos has answered my prayers.”
“I’d like to leave,” I insistently reminded them.
“Ah, yes,” the magister snorted carelessly. “I almost forgot! You may go. Yeah, yeah. Don’t look at me like that. You’re free to go.”
To back up her words, a short text appeared before my eyes.
― Would you like to withdraw from the Unity with Chaos test?
― Yes/No?
I reread the system message two times and glanced sullenly at the magister.
“What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one,” she shrugged. “We aren’t interested in forcing adepts to become one with Chaos. I am not my sister. Occasionally, our methods differed. I believe that it must be a conscious choice. A sincere desire. Not some chance warp.”
I glanced at the troll looking for support, but his countenance bore no expression.
“It was no slip-up that I called you an adept either. I’m beyond sure that you will pass the test.”
“But what’s in it for me?” I asked. “Why should I become dependent on your chaos?”
The magister gave a sincere belly laugh. A semblance of a smile even appeared on the troll’s lips.
“So that’s how you view unity with Chaos! What do you mean ‘dependent,’ you fool? Chaos will grant you freedom, alter your body, share its power. Your spells will improve! It will help you along on the path to perfection. You have made some very powerful enemies. You will need a powerful ally such as Chaos! With time, if you can prove yourself worthy, our mysteries will be revealed to you. You will be permitted access to our faction’s armory. Our alchemists will be happy to provide you with their potions. You will learn new spells. Obtain abilities that mere mortals can only dream of!”
As I listened to the magister’s speech, I was slowly coming to the realization that I had come to a place which was structured similarly to the order of monster hunters. When the foxman was singing the praises of the order, that was about what he said as well. But the chaos faction was still a living, breathing organization. The prospect of gaining access to functioning armories and alchemy laboratories instead of just mountains of dust and ash had me seriously animated. If chaos’ elixirs were even half as effective as those Blots or satiety potions it was worth sticking around.
Above all that, I must admit ― I don’t stand a chance against the Steel King. Especially in light of what I just learned. I must grow stronger. If chaos is what gets me there ― so be it.
I took another glance at the system message hovering before my eyes and, without a hint of pity, chose the word “No.”
“You have made the right choice, my future adept!” the magister came solemnly and left the room, throwing out to the troll as she went: “Take him to join the others and bring him up to speed.”
When the sound of the magister’s footsteps had disappeared down the maze of hallways, the troll turned to me and asked:
“Want some chow?”
My stomach responded unexpectedly with a deep belly grumble, which made the troll chuckle and nod understandingly:
“Let’s go to the kitchen. We can talk there.”
* * *
THE FARE AT THE CITADEL of Chaos was basic but tasty and filling. To be honest though, after having grown accustomed to the varied delicacies Mink produced, I resented having to switch back to nulled grub. Today, there was a vegetable stew on the menu.
“The magister said to bring me to the others,” I started, licking my spoon. “Are there others like me?”
“Not like you, no,” the troll answered, greedily leaning into his stew. And he was already on his fifth or sixth bowl.
There was no one else in the kitchen. We were sitting at a long wide table close to a smoldering fireplace. On the middle of the table was a big huge cauldron of recently prepared stew. When I asked who cooked it, the Gatekeeper just waved me off like a mettlesome fly. But he did explain. As it turned out, everyone here was so terrified of him that he almost never saw them. Someone would cook the food and then scram.
“Then who are the ‘others?’“ I asked.
“Those who have received the mark of Chaos,” the troll responded tight-lipped, letting me know not to expect more information on that account. But still he gave me hope: “You’ll see for yourself tomorrow.”
“What exactly is this test?” I got straight to the point.
“Finally asking the right questions. You must gather chaos particles, then be inducted at an altar.”
Hm... Familiar procedure.
“You don’t look too surprised.” The troll looked at me from beneath his bushy brows. “Have you been inducted into another faction before?”
“Is that a problem?”
“If it’s fire or forest magic ― then yes.”
I shook my head “no.”
“Then it’s fine,” the troll nodded and carried on eating.
“Where can I find these chaos particles?”
“The Labyrinth of Fright. You get them for killing the creatures that live there.”
“What kind of place is that?”
“An ancient one. A place that lives by its own rules. I could go on for hours and you still wouldn’t really learn anything. It’s something you have to see for yourself.”
“But...”
“You should always be prepared for a fight — that’s all you need to know,” the troll cut me off. “Just hold out for the allotted time, and you’re done.”
A-hem... Pretty middling instructions. Either he doesn’t want to tell me the whole truth, or isn’t allowed.
“And how long is that?” I asked.
“It’s different every time: could be an hour, a day, a week,” the Gatekeeper answered. “The record is twenty-eight days. As for me, the labyrinth held out for sixteen days.”
I scratched the back of my head, disconcerted.
“Don’t worry,” the troll waved it off. “Out there, they’ll hardly notice you’re gone. Time works differently in the labyrinth than it does in our world.”
“Will I be going in alone?”
“You’ll all go in together. But whether you’ll take the test alone or in a group is something you’ll have to work out with the others.”
Setting down his spoon, he raised a pointer finger and said gravely:
“And let me give you one last piece of advice ― don’t trust anyone in there. Rely only on your own strength. Based on the look on your face, I don’t think you’ll heed my advice but, sorry, that’s all I can tell you. Alright. Time for you to go. You need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. For me and for you. In fact, it’ll be the most important day of your life.”
Getting up from the table, I caught myself thinking that I was not afraid. The Woodwose was right ― I had to get stronger.
