VIII-84 Unwilling Goodbye (I) (Patreon)

Lots of sellswords and soldiers talk about making peace with their death. You've probably heard it a thousand times, told a thousand ways, and all of it is usually nonsense. You don't make peace with death.

I've seen people who've held and lived their life in dignity die pissing themselves and screaming for their mother. I've seen cowards grasp something at the end, some kind of realization or perfect understanding that lets them slide off quietly with a smile you just can't understand.

Does it make sense to not exist? Does it make sense to stop being? That's what it is. That's what death is. You handle it, you deal with it, and you focus on something else. That's what happens. That's what you do. That's what you commit to.

You look at the people beside you, the people around you, what you have done, how well you've lived your life, your regrets, and you deal with it. If there's any advice I have, it's that no one's ready to go, but when the time comes… remember who you were. 

Remember that even if nothing follows, you hold on to who you were and everything you've done, and everything you could have done, because that's your last moment. 

Maybe, just maybe, that's a kind of forever all to itself. That's what helped me anyway. Today, I keep Jessica in my mind, the kids, and if that's the final thing I see, it might just be what I'll know forever and ever.

I think I can be fine with that.

—Memoir of a Master-Tier War Mage

VIII-84

Unwilling Goodbye (I)

The darkness lingered. Shiv remained trapped.

No matter how much he struggled, no matter what he tried to do, what skill he called upon, how he wielded mind, body, or soul, nothing responded, but his consciousness was alive and awake. His awareness was little more than a taunt directed upon him, for he was in a cage of non-existence while he himself still endured. If this was a curse or a spell placed upon him by the Challenger, he couldn't tell. What he did know, however, was that if his awareness was still churning, that meant time was flowing back in the real world, and his home was exposed—and he was the prime reason for its undoing.

Shiv knew pain; he knew it like others knew oxygen. Hurt had become a constant in his life, unceasing, unending, vast in variety and intricate in depth. But despite the intensity of his many torments and deaths, pain ultimately was just a thing to him, something to suffer and then disregard. In the worst of cases, it was a small price to pay in exchange for resources and higher power. The anguish he felt then in that cage of oblivion, unable to help those he swore to protect, those he came to care for more than any other, even himself, was rending agony that unraveled him from the inside.

The worst part of it all was how he had been used as an instrument. He was a fool, blind and simple. Even as he exercised his cleverness with his cooking, he failed to see the grander scheme: The Challenger had so many paths to victory—and so many of them exploited Shiv’s predictability. Of course, the Challenger would have more than one way to breach the Gate. Attacking directly and raiding the Gate from within was a flourish of desolation and slaughter was merely the most obvious option. Denying that, however, didn't mean the onslaught was going to end. No, the Incursion had always been coming, and so for Shiv to enter the fray meant that he was going to expose himself not only to death but also to levels.

Corcusa was deployed to humiliate him, to contain him, and to leave him incapable of intervening when the rest of the Gate fell. The Breaker was there to batter him into submission, to overwhelm him in a display of superior force, perfectly sculpted by Avalon to be the Deathless’ bane through his power over Necromancy. When both of the Challenger’s champions failed, however, he didn't even need to adjust his approach. He knew that all that struggle would have been enough to hyper-accelerate Shiv’s evolutions. With so many skills being launched toward a grand evolution, and especially with Continuity Error over the edge, there was no way back.

The Incursion was Herr, and so the greater walls protecting Earth dissipated and came undone. The Slipgate had been destroyed, the path into Gate Piety had collapsed, but all the walls around it simply ceased to be. The Challenger and his Orchestras could simply travel the long way across integration alongside Avalon as the Ambient Mana Threshold ceased to bar his divine personage.

Kelhaus! Shiv shouted within his own mind. He didn’t know if she could hear him—barely cared by this point. His rage was erupting out from his heart, and his mind was a howling torrent of desperation. It didn’t matter if she could hear his thoughts with how loud the rest of his being screamed. Kelhaus! I know you’re there, you piece of shit! I know you’re there! I need you to help me to—to—

Shiv’s tirade came to an end before it could begin in earnest. Normally, his Harbinger would command him to master himself, to wield his mind and use his emotions toward more useful ends. But now the Harbinger was absent, and it was in that silence that Shiv found himself overwhelmed by a feeling of self-responsibility. He didn't have any skills to lean on in his current state. He didn't have anything but his sense of self—and it was time to choose who he wanted to be.

It didn't matter if he cursed, threatened, screamed, or begged. Kelhaus was unmoved by conventional morality, and what motivated her was something more akin to Avalon: curiosity, except toward a pursuit of eternal enlightenment rather than Paradise.

She'd protected Shiv, pulled him out of dire straits, but she wouldn't do so again, not unless he could give her a reason to do so. And that was just the thing. All this time, he'd been trying to speak to her as if she cared about the Gate, as if she cared about him beyond his potential to grasp certain epiphanies—epiphanies that were beyond her own frame of reference. And the emotions she felt, though overwhelming and vastly varied, like a grand library compared to the sidewalk bookshelf that was Shiv’s heart, were hers to wield.

Her mind reigned supreme over the entirety of her being; her Tripartite soul was not perfectly balanced, but harmonious. Her mind was the tyrant, yet it did not crush or compel the rest of her. Everything flowed to the highest aspect of her person. Now Shiv had to do the same.

Kelhaus was a self-moving soul more than any other. Perhaps what he needed now was some semblance of symmetry: to mirror her in some way so that he could understand her or get close enough to draw her curiosity and trade that for a favor or debt.

No. Wait. I'm thinking things in a purely transactional manner. If it's a pure transaction, it's not going to work. This is about belief and truth and… perspective. I'm still trying to do everything I can for her to listen to me, so she might reject it outright… But how the hells am I supposed to convince her to help me if I can't even understand how she thinks or how she sees the world?

The answer came to Shiv in a startling instant. Instead of his mind remaining a void like the space around him, he was filled with a sudden burst of momentum. Behavior! I don't know how she exactly thinks. I don't have all her memories. But I do know how she behaves. I do know the emotions she feels. I can extrapolate from that—work backwards! 

A light chuckle sounded within Shiv's mind. His thoughts froze. “This is a commendable development of self you are pursuing,” Kelhaus’ voice echoed. “And so I will not deceive you for your efforts; there is no avenue of speech nor action on your part that can compel me to stand in your stead against the Challenger. Just as there is no means within my Tripartite being that can drive the incarnation of strife back from what he seeks to claim.”

Anger went off like a bomb inside Shiv—but he kept the blast contained. Is this a "can't" or "won't"? Look, I don't need you to fucking beat the Challenger in a fistfight—if you can just start saving people and taking them out of the Gate, that'll be enough! If you can find Uva, Adam—as many people as you can—and get them to safety. I can't ask for anything more. And I know you can do that. I know you can!

“Shiv,” she said, her voice gentle. “What follows for them is already in motion. Many will die, and there will be nothing you can do for them. Such is the momentum of causality, but not all of them are damned to a certain fate. I cannot, however, change what is to befall them. The shifting of the paths to come depends on you instead. But before all the other choices to come, you must make a choice now. Your soul has ripened. Yet you are not ready—not as a philosopher and not as a Pathbearer—for what you face. The System has conspired against you, absurdly so, fueling you with power at every turn as it tried to strike you from existence while depriving you of the experiences needed to combine deftness with might. This must change if you are to ever reclaim control over your own existence and let flourish your deprived epistemology. And so, once again, it is time for me to stay my hand of vulgarity, despite my desire to interfere in this.”

Kelhaus… what are you even talking about? 

Instead of replying, Kelhaus continued to speak: “I have not influenced you overmuch, but right now, I must confess that I do worry. The choice that lies ahead of you is one that could either lead you down a path no one else can follow, or toward utter insularity. The part of your soul that cuts is the true embodiment of your immortal nature. I have recovered it from where Avalon’s pawn so carelessly cast it, and now it is tied back to you. Yet it wishes to merge deeper with you, and with so many evolutions reached, it bifurcates, torn between two paths. The former, a fusion between your Revenant and that natural inclination you have toward political and social manipulation, while more promising, but perhaps undoing, is a merger between your Severed Shadow and your Harbinger.”

Shiv's mind was racing, but he forced it to slow with every last bit of willpower he had. His aggravated heart calmed, and for the first time, he felt the absence. He didn't so much find himself lost within this place as he was disconnected from it, disconnected from himself. This was limbo, not oblivion, and he endured here because he hadn't chosen which route his evolving skills were to follow. 

With this, Kelhaus let out a soft sigh. “And now I, too, am split. I fear what might become of your Harbinger. I fear your path towards philosophy, towards self-mastery and continued understanding, will be severed both metaphorically and metaphysically by the joining of your Tripartite being with your Unique skill. At the same time, I cannot help but wonder where it might lead you, for some truths need to be carved out from the world before they are offered. But in this, I overreach. This should be your choice, your choice alone. And Shiv, your choice need not be perfect, for perfection is the summit of gods, and we seek to stride beyond mountains that lay above the land—to choose freedom beyond absolute sovereignty. And so I relinquish my hold now. Even if you are not yet experienced enough, even if you are not ready for this Delve, I relinquish my hold, and I give you this chance to make your own choice, to see where it leads you, for good, for ill, and all that lies in between.”

Okay… Okay… but—the Delves! I have two Delves! How the hells am I ever going to finish this in time to save the Gate? 

Then came a wave of deepest pity, but it did not originate from within. It washed across this place of limbo, staining its inner depths like oil polluting water. “You need not save the Gate. That is another's choice to make. The Great One makes her move now that her prey has been lured in. She has a plan to deny the Challenger and Avalon their due.”

Valor, Shiv breathed, realizing the plan in an instant. Kelhaus didn't need to explain any more. Everything came into place. Valor had been incapacitated all that time. The Starhawk, flayed and vulnerable—Gate Piety made vulnerable and exposed to the onslaught. That motherfucker… She knew. She wanted this to happen! 

“She suspected,” Kelhaus corrected. “She engineered the required conditions and outcomes necessary to provoke Avalon into committing.”

A new presence brushed against his soul. He felt it as part of limbo folded inward, like a hand sticking through thin fabric, pressed directly upon skin. Something was trying to breach this place and get at his soul—bind itself to its consciousness. A glimmer of ruby-red flame lit the distant darkness, like a bonfire seen in the dead of night. It flared and drew closer, accelerating with greater speed every second: a comet streaking across the void.

“She comes for you now. She intends to deliver a final act of calculated cruelty and kindness, tethered into one. She will show you Valor. She will give you a moment to say goodbye, and your vulnerability—the fact that this is what seems to be his only chance to preserve all that he loves, to do a final act of dignity for the students he failed to protect—will drive him over the edge and bring him toward commitment. He will reform himself, and the Thief of Lost Acheron will arise where Valor Thann once stood.”

But Udraal… He wouldn’t—

“An assumption. You know little of what he would and wouldn’t. Think, Shiv. Does Udraal hate the Thief more than he loves his father? More importantly, why was Udraal so confident in your ability to resurrect his mother if he knew she was but another facet of the Thief the whole time?”

Silence reigned within Shiv. He didn't have any answer for her. Udraal was an enigma. Projecting his emotions onto him didn’t make them manifest. 

“I will remain close,” Kelhaus whispered. “Just a few minutes ahead. Do not call out for me in Valor’s presence. I will not answer, for I cannot even if I wanted to. The Great One will not abide by my presence. She is more of a tyrant than Avalon could ever dream to be. The Sage of the Sundered Sky demanded that of her. As it will demand of your friend. I—” Kelhaus paused and scoffed, but not at Shiv. Her ire was directed inward, as if she suddenly realized a great folly on her part. “I am a fool. I speak too much now, and say too little. Much less of what you need.”

She stopped talking then, and her form manifested in a resplendent figure of gold. She loomed over Shiv, her robes fluttering, her face stern but soft at the same time—the expression of a woman too used to being hard, forcing gentleness upon herself to perform the following deed. She embraced Shiv suddenly and held the core of him close. Though her affection was slight, it was enough. The warmth was true, and Shiv relished the feeling, was soothed by it, as he was imbued with the totality of her emotions once more.

There was pity, pride, disappointment, secondhand anguish, anger, sorrow, curiosity, yearning, and so much more. She felt that on her part, but more importantly, she felt all those things for him. Above all, there was a bitter tang, a sense that this was not fair, that this was all too much for someone so young. But she accepted it. For what else could she do? Who could someone exert their will upon the totality of existence? Not her, not the Challenger, not Avalon, perhaps not even that unknowable being which governed them all.

Perhaps fate was simply what was forged at the intersection of ten million choices spawned from countless free wills and everything that was already in motion, all the rules and conditions layered over the existences embodied.

“Existence is not always kind, so you must be kind to yourself. I have forgotten this, just as I have forgotten so many things. I have embarrassed myself. No, I have turned away from my enlightenment. My commitment to knowledge, to understanding, has often led me astray. I rectify it now, too late, but still, it matters. We are not perfect. You are not perfect. I am not perfect. We will do everything we can with what we have, but should we still fail, should you still experience tremendous pain and agony, let it pass through you. Do not fight it. Do not hold on to it. Work with it, use it. Do not become it. There is no way out once you become something, and it will forever leave you less than what you could have been. It is not your fault, but it is still your reality. Grapple with it. Do what you can. Struggle, but when the time comes, do not castigate. The world outside is not yours to rule, but the world within is still yours to walk. Be wise, Philosopher.”

And then she detached from him. Her form flickered and came apart in fractals as a tunnel shaped to her silhouette formed. Then she was gone, zooming toward the future, just a few steps ahead, yet out of reach. And as Shiv stared into the direction where Kelhaus disappeared, another shape approached—a missile that resembled vitality ablaze.

A crimson needle pressed hard against the confines of this state of limbo he found himself in, but until he made a decision, this place wouldn't break, and that final threshold barring whatever was to come would stay up and keep it banished from him, much as the Ambient Mana Threshold protected Integrated Earth from hostile Transcendents and High Gods alike.

The choice was upon Shiv: merging his Severed Shadow with one skill or another. He didn't know what would become of his Scheming Bastard if it was fed to the core of his soul, but he knew in his bones and from his legend that it would be far inferior compared to the marriage of his Revenant and his Harbinger. 

But where might the latter lead? What would he become?

Kelhaus was clearly worried for a reason, and Shiv had inherited a part of that tension, but he did not let it linger. He did not let it dissuade him. He knew himself better than Kelhaus ever would. Though she had pierced him, though she had insights about him that eluded his own comprehension, he knew his history, and more importantly, he had been himself across all his iterations, from the Pathless boy desperate to be something more to the reckless Pathbearer drunk on power, companionship, and purpose. But at every point, at every instant, he had grown, he had evolved, he had changed to meet whatever challenge came to greet him, and he didn't degenerate. 

He was never less than before. He chose responsibility. He chose to be more. It was why he decided upon the Leviathan rather than an evolution that granted him the capacity for absolute destruction. It was why he spoke to the giants of the north and the strange being that governed them, rather than bringing them to heel through spell and strength.

The merger between the Severed Shadow and the Harbinger would not be a diminished thing. It would be insight—it would be moving, undying insight. Furthermore, it would be a path that only he could walk, that no other could follow—and that might just be his salvation in this time of absolute desperation.

Shiv had never been afraid to die, never been afraid of pain. He was practically dead to all forms of discomfort, but that might simply be because he didn't understand them, didn't know them, and he didn't spend any time thinking about them. Nor did he truly contemplate what it would be like to not exist, to cease to be, to be empty as the world passed through him as if he wasn't there. All these thoughts came to mind, and Shiv wondered to himself what might follow if he truly fathomed what it meant to descend into death itself.

Time to find out. 

His choice was made in an instant. The darkness surrounding Shiv burst open as a breach formed in the threshold of limbo. Concurrently, something blossomed within his being. His soul was as if a cracked shell, and from within leaked yolk that poured one way down a predetermined channel. His Vitae was stretching out, bringing forth the wholeness of his Severed Shadow and infusing it into the mold that was his Harbinger. And so Shiv's senses didn't so much plunge outside as they did expand and open. He swelled until the dark was inside him again, until he inverted as limbo receded and he arose. Suddenly, the approaching meteorite wasn't so far away anymore.

Initiati—

[Encounter Paused]

[Delve Paused]

Everything within was still. Environments were half-rendered and blurry. They were dappled blotches, unformed, with neither substance nor coloration. Shiv stood alone, the only source of realism amidst a surreal, half-formed landscape as he felt the hand of the System reach far and touch him deep. It carried forth a flame he was familiar with. The dreaming flame tumbled and peeled, rippling along the edges as it expanded, creating a passage between places.

Shiv recognized this for what it was. The Great One was using her Stolen Throne, and as the vital blaze parted, he expected to see her featureless form on the other side. He held his violence in refrain, for he knew it was futile—and considered how best he could use his words, what part of her he could manipulate, to achieve his desired ends.

Yet as the crimson conflagration died down, the one who burst forth was not the much-loathed Faceless Queen of New Albion, but Valor.

There was an unnaturalness to Valor's movements, his rendering stuttering and incomplete, like there was a delay between where Valor was and how the Stolen Throne presented him. The fires forming his person flickered as they tried to stabilize. He was almost solid in shape, but every few seconds, there would be a spray of embers, a distortion in his shape; a gap would form, and Shiv could see through his mentor. But Shiv could also feel the warmth of Valor's existence, sense his vitality so close, though his soul stretched far. Valor was still missing his legs. He remained incomplete.

Not too late. Maybe I can still talk him out of this. Maybe we can still figure something out…

But then he caught sight of what loomed behind Valor as the flames danced. The vagueness of the Great One emerged, her contours defined amidst the shifting of the System's flame. As Shiv glared, he felt her stare into, then through, his eyes without shame. Not a single ounce of regret existed inside of her. 

She would do this without hesitation. She would do so much more than this. She would sacrifice every last soul on Earth if it meant getting what she wanted. 

For that was the way of High Gods: to exist so far beyond those mortal, to be absolute in power, and to wager and play. On the scope of axioms and concepts, what worth was a little life? What worth was a trillion worlds when you had eternity and were removed from all consequence?

And now she was going to use Shiv to break Valor’s resolve.

“Shiv—” Valor began. 

Only to be interrupted as Shiv patted his master on the right arm, angling him aside so he could address his hated adversary first. “I want you to understand something: I know what you're doing right now, and as far as I'm concerned, you, the Challenger, and Avalon are all going to end up in the same place before this is all over. I hope you understand the choice you made just now, how you're using me to break Valor's will? Yeah, there are going to be consequences for this.”

The contour of the Great One's form nodded once. “There are always consequences.”

The indifferent way she replied calcified the hatred within Shiv. He laughed, and there was every bit of joy and amusement in his tone, for he was looking forward to inflicting atrocities upon her someday, if it would be in a thousand years, ten thousand years, or a trillion years. She, the Challenger, Avalon, and all the other bastards across Integration were going to find out that they couldn't just get away with it. Not when their enemy wouldn't stay dead, wouldn't stay broken, wouldn't stay the same. “Not like this. But you’ll learn. I'll do whatever it takes to make you learn.”

A second blaze greeted the first. The enkindlement of Shiv's emotions radiated out from him in a splotch of darkest color against the vivacious red that was the System's presence, and he allowed her to feel his unfettered loathing. He reminded and instilled in the Great One the promise of folly, even if she wouldn't take notice now. There would be a point, inevitably, made fate by her decision and his unrelenting will, where he would break her, then he would cook for her, and then, finally, he would carve regret into her. After that, well, death might follow if he felt merciful, but Shiv didn't think he was so kind. Not after all this.

All in due time, Shiv thought to himself. He would have the rest of eternity to pursue his grudge against the Great One and his other enemies. 

Right now and forever, Valor mattered more. Shiv slid his hand past Valor’s arm and gathered the old Pathbearer in as much of an embrace as he could give. Valor was thin, weightless, and boiling at the same time. The hug felt wrong and right in equal measure, and if he was comforted by Valor’s presence, he found himself yearning to touch the whole of Valor. He was present in mind and soul, but without his body, it seemed like there was still something missing.

But at least he’s here. Even if he’s missing bits of himself, he’s here…

Valor’s reciprocation came slow and sorrowful. He hesitated—and patted Shiv on the back of the head as a father might a worried son. Then his hold tightened, and Shiv realized just how frail Valor was right then.

There were few things worse than staring at the mortality of someone you cherished, and Valor felt it, felt the end draw close, as did Shiv. Should the Thief arrive, there would be no certitude in Valor remaining at all. But that might not be the worst fate that could follow. Perhaps there would be just a flicker of him, a single mote, one that was only faintly aware of himself, yet never in charge, forever drowned in another’s mind.

For ten heartbeats and longer, master and disciple held each other and said nothing. Shiv didn't care that the Great One could see. She likely knew this, wanted this desired effect, and it disgusted him to meet her expectations, but again, he wouldn't reduce Valor just because he wanted to spite the Great One.

“So, the good news is that I shut the gateway,” Shiv said, chuckling lightly. “Bad news is that I brought down all the walls stopping the Challenger from strolling over. I think he might’ve been planning to overfeed me on levels from the start.”

“I know,” Valor replied with a huff. “It is not your fault.” He paused for a second and grimaced. “I really should have killed that vampire.”

“Yup. Me too. She finessed the shit out of me. I did manage to blow up the Breaker, though—”

“I know… I remember.”

Shiv blinked. “You remember—oh, Stolen Throne bullshit. How many perspectives did you get?”

Valor smiled sadly. “All of them. Shiv. There is no more time. There are no more choices.”

“Yeah. Thanks to the Great One,” Shiv spat. “She used us. She had us draw them in—had them concentrate on us. Just so she can have you turn into the Thief and… I still have no idea how he's supposed to handle the felling Challenger. Violence just empowers him. What’s the Thief going to do? Steal his other hand?”

“It would be quite the feat on my part, wouldn’t it?” Valor laughed. Then, both he and Shiv went silent as they considered the same thing. “Shiv. Do you think you can muster that moment again somehow?”

“Not unless you have a really nasty idea on how to help me finish two Delves in a few minutes at most and then trick the Challenger into plugging his orc god-shit into my new, evolving skill long enough for future me to reach back over and rip his fat head off.”

Valor was about to say something, then Shiv's words settled in. “Two Delves.”

“Yeah,” Shiv grunted. “Breaker leveled me good.”

“Which two?”

“Uh. A lot more than two are evolving, but Continuity Error and the Harbinger are going over the edge—the Severed Shadow is doing that weird thing where it fuses before hitting a threshold again.”

“Fusing?”

“With the Harbinger.”

“With…” Valor trailed off, and he shot Shiv a look. “Madness. Always madness with you, boy, isn’t it?”

“I’m just giving back what the world throws at me. So. Thoughts?”

Valor shook his head in a gesture of exasperated pride. “Not the one when it comes to you, Shiv. Not the one.”

“Yeah,” Shiv agreed, unsure what else to do—how they were supposed to get out of this. “Valor. Please don’t.”

“Shiv…”

“We still have some time. We can think of—maybe if I used my Vitaemancy and carved an opening back to reality or… or something. You can show me how to modify my soul or—”

“Shiv.”

Something cracked inside Shiv. For all his bravado, for his forthcoming power, there was nothing he could do now. Nothing…

“I—we don’t even know if the Thief will do anything! It might be for nothing. It might not work at all. He might just fuck off instead of attacking Avalon and the Challenger! We can’t just let them use us like this. I can’t just let you… go away… I barely started learning from you—it’s not enough.”

“It’s never enough,” Valor replied quietly. “Never enough time. Even eternity is not enough when you are among those you cherish. And… I do not wish to fade away, either. But I will. I will. I can accept this fate for you. For Adam. For Uva. And everyone. I can face him. Even if it is to be an execution. Even if it costs the whole of me. You are more than worth it. All of you are. But it is not death I fear. Surprising, after all I have done to protect myself from annihilation, no? What I fear is… that I might not be myself. And that the Thief will hurt you. I don’t want to be a stranger to myself, Shiv. I don’t… I am… afraid… I am afraid.”

Something about how Valor spoke those words crushed Shiv. 

A light went out inside the Deathless. He might heal. He might grow stronger. A part of him that burned had been extinguished, and would never re-ignite quite so bright ever again.